Witching Anya
by Admiral
Summary: Anya is at the mercy of the latest Big Bad. COMPLETE! WINNER OF THE "D'HOFFRYN'S CHOICE" AWARD AT THE RABID RABBIT AWARDS SITE!
1. Night of the Witches

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  


Author's Note: This is a full-length Anya-saga, so get comfortable and keep your eyes glued to the screen at all times. It's a little more mature than my other Anya fics so kiddies are not allowed. The rating is for Nudity, Graphic Violence, Strong Language and Sexual Situations, and the following categories apply: some AU (something I usually try to avoid, but I couldn't help it in this case), Anya POV (naturally) and HEAVY SLASH (it is in caps so that those who are offended by such things may run screaming now). R&R, good bad or indifferent.

  
  


'Witching Anya

by Darrin A. Colbourne

  
  
  
  


I pace up and down in Buffy's living room, trying to occupy my mind with taking inventory of the furniture and knick-knacks in it, categorizing each object as pretty, or tacky, or bulky, or whatever adjective comes to mind at the time. I'm not really paying attention. It's an exercise in denial. I'm trying hard not to picture My Xander, Buffy, Willow and Tara lying in massive pools of blood on Sunnydale's streets, ripped to shreds by the hellhounds of the latest "Big Bad". Dawn is pacing around with me, and while I can't read her thoughts I assume that she's worried about the same thing. As we wait for word on their latest brush with the Forces of Darkness, and I contemplate the Hell on Earth that our little town has become, one thought keeps coming to my mind unbidden:

This week really sucked!

It started out so well. Willow and Tara are back together...well, almost. Tara was especially moved by the fact that Willow had given up Magic completely, and came back into her life to help her stay on the straight and narrow. Buffy made a better first impression on the new Social Worker that came by (You know, to replace the one that Buffy drove insane when she was turned invisible), and it looks like the State won't be taking Dawn any time soon. Best of all, I started trying on weddings dresses, beautiful frilly ones with long trains and lace veils. Xander says I look beautiful in all of them, but I'm not really sure if he means it or if he's just being polite and hoping I like the cheapest one enough to pick it. (It doesn't matter either way. I like hearing him tell me I'm beautiful no matter what the circumstances.)

Then, out of nowhere the town was invaded by the biggest, meanest pack of wolves I've ever laid eyes on! Hundreds of them tore through Sunnydale, chasing down and mauling innocent people, sometimes chasing them into buildings and cars to get to them. Then this army of witches showed up! They were all decked out in Yves Saint Lauren and Donna Karan suits and went through the town using magic to wreak havoc according to gender. They killed the men, either by dissolving them in acid, making them spontaneously combust, trapping them with a dozen wolves or any number of hideous methods. There was an all-boys prep school on the outskirts of Sunnydale Heights. There's nothing but a big hole on the site now.

They tried to recruit the women in town, and tortured any women who refused to convert with their worst nightmares. They tried to get Buffy, Willow and Me to join when they caught us all together in the Magic Box, and we barely got out with our lives. You don't know what terror is until you've been trapped in a little shop with hordes of bunnies, unkillable vampires and Harmony clones.

We've spent the last three days holed up in Buffy's house, venturing out in pairs with the Slayer to survey the damage and try to make some headway against the hordes. Buffy came back without Spike last night. They were ambushed by several witches. She said they didn't kill Spike but they took him away, then beat her back when she tried to follow. Tonight, Buffy and the others left to carry out a desperate plan. They were going to use Tara's magic to try and find the source of the invasion, the portal or demon or whatever, and destroy it, or send it back where it came from, and hopefully that would put everything back to normal...or at least give us a fighting chance to stop the bad guys (girls?) by cutting off their source of power. They left Dawn behind because it was too dangerous a mission for her, and they left me to watch her. (Okay, I admit it. In a situation like this I'm about as useless as the girl, but I appreciate them telling me that I was only staying behind to watch her.)

We stop pacing when we hear someone screaming as they get closer to the house. The person is saying something but we can't make out the words. We do, however, recognize the voice.

"It's Buffy!" Dawn says. We rush to the front window and look out. Buffy is leading Willow, Xander and Tara down the street, and they're being pursued by a howling, growling pack of wolves that covers the entire road from sidewalk to sidewalk. Buffy's leading the entire procession right to her front walk as she yells again.

"What's she saying?" I ask.

"Something about the door..." Dawn says, just as the Slayer gets closer and we can hear it clearly:

"DAWN!! ANYA!! OPEN THE DOOOOR!!!!"

I blanche as I rush to the door to open it! I barely get through the locks and get the doorknob turned when I feel a push from the other side. Buffy practically falls in. "IN! IN! IN!" She screams as the others follow, then she slams the door shut before I can even let go of the knob! Then she screams "SEAL THE HOUSE!!" Tara gestures with her hand, and a second later we hear several thuds as the wolves attempt to smash their way in! The thudding continues after we collect ourselves and get away from the doors and windows.

Buffy and the others are panting with exhaustion. I rush to support Xander and rest him on the couch, while Dawn takes Buffy to a soft chair to catch her breath. Tara collapses in another chair, while Willow drops to the floor by Tara's feet. When everyone is still I take a close look at them all. They're all cut and bruised, their clothing is slashed and burned. Each of them is bloodied in one way or another, and little moans of pain find their way out amid gasps for air.

Sitting next to my future husband, taking in the ragged warriors before me, I try hard to find a tactful way to voice what I'm thinking at this moment. I finally settle on a question.

"So...is it safe to assume we need a 'Plan B'?"

Xander catches enough of his breath to answer me. "Oh, no....my...Goddess of Understatement. We...are...beyond 'Plan B'! We are so far beyond 'Plan B' that the light from 'Plan B' will take a thousand years to reach us! We need a 'Plan X', or a 'Plan Y'. 'Plan Z' will involve cyanide capsules. "

I smile a little. It's the most sarcastic he's been for two days, which means he must be starting to feel better.

"I admit," Buffy says, "that that was not one of our finer moments in fighting Evil."

"What happened?" Dawn asks.

"We made it to the high school." Buffy says. Yesterday afternoon, Tara had managed to use some scrying spells to narrow down the source of the invasion to Sunnydale High. "It was almost too easy. We managed to sneak past the dogs and the patrols and get inside."

"It was a trap." Tara says. "We were ambushed in the gymnasium by wolves and ten witches. The witches tried to burn us while the dogs attacked. I'm surprised we made it out. I didn't have a chance to do anything with magicks besides keep us all from combusting."

"There's no doubt they expected us to find them." Willow says. "And this time they didn't concentrate everything they had on killing Xander."

"Yes," Xander says. "It was a real Equal Opportunity lynching."

"So there's nothing we can do?" Dawn says.

"I don't see what options we have." Willow says. "All that research we did and nothing covers this situation. It's like there's a brand new demon out there that's showing off, trying to prove how out of our league we are."

I let my gaze wander as I recall the one clue we had. Buffy tore a pendant off a witch she was fighting a few days ago. The charm was a small tree with a pentagram superimposed on it. We'd spent the day we were in the shop trying to find the symbol in the books and on the 'net, but without any luck.

"Well...surely it's not completely hopeless." I say to Buffy. "I mean, we've been through worse scrapes and come out all right."

"Really?" Buffy says with a chuckle. "Name one."

"Well, gee, just off the top of my head, there was that time you dove into the portal to Hell and died, the portal that opened up when some guy stabbed your sister in the gut and she bled off a rickety tower. You two are still here, right?"

"Tactful as ever, honey." Xander whispers to me as Buffy and Dawn stare.

"Okay, for the record..." Dawn says, "...that's not an experience I want to relive."

"Ditto." Buffy says. "But in your own twisted way you're right, Anya. This is really only a new situation because we don't have history and research to fall back on. If--When we get out of this, we'll need to do it by coming up with our own solution."

"We won't be able to do anything trapped in here." Tara says. "If we don't come up with a way to stop...wait a second. Listen..."

  
  


The room falls silent as we all listen carefully. "I don't hear anything," I say.

  
  


"I think that's the point, sweetie." Xander says. "The Hundred-and-One Attack Dogs out there have stopped trying to pound their way in." Since we're the closest, Xander and I move to the window and peep out through the curtains and blinds. Most of the wolves that followed them home are gone, but about three dozen are on the front lawn, sitting in perfect rows and watching the house as if they expect it to grow legs and run away. Surrounding them are about two dozen well-dressed witches, wearing dark pantsuits and black sunglasses (At night? How Eighties.) and silently chanting in the direction of the house. Suddenly the air outside shimmers with gold light, coinciding with a gasp from Tara. The effect is brief, but I've been around sorcery and magic long enough to realize our time is running out.

"They're trying to break the barrier!" Tara says. "Buffy, they can counter anything I can throw at them! It won't hold for long!"

Buffy stands up and looks hard at the door. "Can you transport us somewhere?"

"Not all at once, and not all that far. I don't have much of a knack for it, and I doubt we could find a place to go where they couldn't track us. We'd have to keep moving constantly..."

"Or we can make our stand here. I've tried running. It doesn't work. Xander, help me get some things from upstairs."

With that everyone gets up and Xander follows Buffy upstairs. Tara gasps in surprise again as her barrier shimmers. When the assault subsides, she closes her eyes and begins chanting herself, trying to reinforce the seal.

Willow just stands there watching her girlfriend and biting her nails. To her credit, she's not offering to help, or create a stronger barrier or do anything else magical. I can see it in her eyes and body language, though. The abstinence is hard on her, especially in times of mortal peril like this.

That may be something to consider. Maybe something needs to be said. I'm sure it's crossed everyone's mind at one point since this mess started, but they'll leave it to me to say, so they can act all shocked and insulted and take everything out on Li'l Old Anya. That might force me to keep my mouth shut--I am actually capable of holding my tongue on occasion--but this is different. I don't want any of us to die.

Soon Buffy and Xander are back downstairs with a bunch of weapons in their hands. Xander hands a Kendo stick to Willow and a sai to Tara while he keeps a big club. Buffy hands a large dagger to her sister and then comes over to me.

I speak to her quietly as I take a mace from her. "Buffy...this may not be something you want to hear, but...maybe, just maybe, we should let Willow use her magic to get us out of this."

I wasn't as quiet as I hoped. Everyone turns to look at me, just as I expected. I even brought Tara out of her trance. "It's not that you haven't done a great job so far," I say to her, "but we need all the offensive power we can get right now, and Willow has always been more...aggressive. She may be able to tip the scales a little further in our favor if we let her cut loose."

To my surprise, I don't receive any scolds or caustic comments. Instead, everyone turns to look at Willow when I finish. She looks around at everyone else for a moment or two, then stares at her feet as she answers. "No. I'm sorry, Anya. I can't." Then she looks up at me. "I don't need to. Tara is strong enough. She can get us through this just as well as I can."

  
  


She's smiling as she tries to comfort me, and so is Buffy when she adds: "We'll do fine without Willow's magic. All of us. It's like you said. We've been through worse, and we didn't always have witchcraft to help."

I smile back and nod and the discussion ends there, but I'm still not convinced. Despite all her gaffes when going overboard with witchcraft, it was always nice to know that there was at least one member of our little group besides Buffy that could stand toe-to-toe with a bad guy and actually give as good as she got. Yes, Tara is powerful in her own right, but she's...well, passive. She doesn't have the competitive instinct to go with the ability that would make her a serious threat.

"AAHH!" Tara wails as what I feared happens. Someone more competitive just put her in her place. Willow rushes over to support her. "The barrier's down!" Tara says. "It's like somebody just walked up and turned it off." She looks confused as she gets back on her feet, then a look of terror shows on her face. "Whoever we're facing," she whispers, "is on her way in. I've never sensed this kind of power."

Buffy swings her broadsword as she approaches the door, we all gather behind her, gripping our weapons a little tighter. I hold my mace like a baseball bat, ready to send the Big Bad's head right out of the park.

The door opens on its own. It swings in gently before the invader even gets to the bottom step. She's walking up the walk slowly, casually, decked out in a suit and sunglasses of her own and wearing a dark, broad-rimmed hat as well. Beyond her we can see that her minions parted the way for her entrance. There's a limousine parked out front, with the rear door opened right in front of the walk.

She takes her hat off at the top step, letting her long hair fall and settle. I barely have a moment to register it's color in the light of the porchlight when an unseen force yanks the weapons from our hands and sticks them to the ceiling.

She's in the door when we tear our gaze from the ceiling, standing three feet away from Buffy. She tosses her hat nonchalantly to the couch, and as she moves the light glints off her red-tinted hair. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I note the small, perky smile on her red-coated lips, and all our jaws drop when she takes off her sunglasses, revealing her bright green eyes and showing us the unmasked face of our latest archenemy.

It's...Willow.

"Hi, Gang." She says. "Let's talk."

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	2. Bad Copy

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  


Author's Note: See first part for warnings.

  
  


'Witching Anya (2)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  
  
  
  
  


At first, none of us can speak. We're too busy goggling at the two Willows in our midst, looking from one to the other like we're watching a tennis match, taking in the contrast between the sleek, confident villain in black and the confused, battle-weary hero in tattered pastels. The "Big Bad" Willow hasn't done anything since she walked in and disarmed us. She's just facing us down with a slight grin, standing a few feet from Buffy with her hands folded in front of her. When she realizes that we're not going to talk, she breaks the silence.

"Nothing to say? No 'This is some sort of trick' or 'Show us what you really look like' or 'I don't care what you look like, you're not our Willow'? Anything? You don't have to keep looking at both of us. Physically, for all intents and purposes, we're both Willow, which means you're wasting your time trying to find surface differences. Still stuck for something to say? Okay, I'll tell you a little more. See, I'm the Willow from another plane of existence, one where she made...different choices."

"Wait," Xander says, "I get it. You're like that Vampire Willow, right?"

It's the first time I see Bad Willow's smile fade, and the expression on her face is a study in exasperation. "Yes, Monkey Boy, like 'Vampire Willow'. Damn, do I hate that phrase, almost as much as I hate the person associated with it! Do you know it's gotten to the point where I sometimes go dimension-hopping just for the sole purpose of hunting down and killing Vampire Willows? I made the mistake of letting one stay with me a couple of weeks before I staked her. Do you know how annoying it is to hear someone whine 'Bored Now!', 'Bored Now!' every five minutes?!!"

"Oh, good, honey." I whisper to Xander. "Make her mad. That makes so much more sense than getting ourselves out of here alive!" I cringe a little when I realize she's heard me, but then her smile comes back when our eyes meet, and she gives me a little wink, as if I shouldn't worry about dying at this particular moment.

She takes a deep breath and turns her attention back to Buffy, still smiling. "But that's not why I'm here, and I'm not here to take over your universe, although that would probably be a walk in the park. I'm here..."

"Wait a second!" Dawn says. "There are other Willows in other universes? Are there other Dawns, too? And other Buffies? And other Xanders?"

"Well, you're the Key," Bad Willow says, "don't you know? Okay, even if you forgot all that when you got made human, they should have told you..." A sudden wave of realization crosses the witch's face as she turns back to Buffy. "You're actually surprised I'm an alternate Willow, aren't you? None of you knew you were facing me? You didn't know what I was until I walked into this house?"

"Were we supposed to know?" Willow, Our Willow, Good Willow says.

"I thought you did know." Bad Willow says. "I thought the fact that you tracked me to Sunnydale High meant you'd figured everything out, or the fact that you were up against a bunch of witches gave you some clue. I at least thought the pendant would be a dead giveaway."

"The pendant?" Buffy says.

"Yes. The one you took off one of my minions. Didn't the Tree and Pentagram sign give you a hint?"

"We couldn't find any information on it." Tara says. "There was nothing in any of the books we looked in."

"Did you try a Botany book, precious?" Bad Willow says, getting blank stares in return. With an aggravated grunt she pulls her pendant out of her shirt and holds it out to us. "It's a Willow Tree, you nimrods! Willow Tree, Pentagram. Willow, Witch!"

I slap a palm to my forehead, getting it. "Of course! That makes perfect sense! Oh, my...don't you hate it when the answer is staring you right in the face and you completely miss it?"

They stare at me again. Everybody, including both Willows, gives me That Look. Bad Willow's face changes first, though. She gives me another smile before she continues talking to everyone. "Well. At least one of you has an imagination. Look, I don't want to stay here for too long. It was a lot of work setting up this little visit just to illustrate a point."

"And what point would that be?" Buffy says, making Bad Willow's mask slip a little again. The doppelganger gets very close to the Slayer then, and delivers her answer in a soft, threatening tone.

"That I could do a lot more damage, if it were my desire to stay longer."

She backs up again to address everyone. "But I'm not here to destroy this world, or conquer it, like I said before. I'm here on more of a personal mission. There's something here that I want, and if I can have it, I won't waste anymore of your time or mine here."

"So, if we give you this...thing, you'll just leave?" Dawn asks.

"That's the deal. Give me what I want, and I'll go away."

"What is it you want?" Tara asks.

"And why should we just turn it over to you?" Buffy says.

  
  


"You're a natural blonde, aren't you?" Bad Willow asks Buffy. "Okay then. I'll put it terms you can figure out. If I get what I want, I'll go home to my own world and take all my people and puppies with me. If I don't get what I want, I'll bring more of my people and puppies here...and kill everything that moves, starting with the people in this house. Is that a good enough reason to consider my offer, Buffy?

"Now, as to your question, Tara, what I need is something that helps to define what I am. What I am is the ruler of a vast interdimensional empire, and every imperial ruler needs three things: a First Minister to help govern, an Heir to will the throne to, and a Consort to share the throne with. I have two of these things, but the last one has eluded me since I decided to...let's say, make positive changes in the organization of the known multiverse. I could never find that special someone, that one person in all existence that I felt deserved to help me rule over 100 Billion living and dead souls...until several months ago, your time. That's when I scanned this world for the first time, and found my one true love, the one person anywhere that I'd share my life and fortune with.

"I'm here for my Mate, Tara. Nothing more. Once I have that person with me, I'll go, and leave everyone to their 'Scooby' meetings and liaisons with bloodsuckers."

Buffy starts to tremble at that 'bloodsuckers' remark, and her hands suddenly ball up into fists, as if she were going to pummel Bad Willow.

"Oops." The Bad Witch says. "Sorry, Buff. My bad. They don't know about those little adventures of yours, do they?"

"What adventures?" Xander says. "What bloodsuckers...Buffy, have you been seeing Angel again?"

Bad Willow chuckles. "Oh, yeah. That's it." She says, a little too sarcastically for my taste. "Look, its been real fun verbally sparring with you losers like this, but I don't have forever. It's decision time: Do I get my Consort, or do I turn this world into a parking lot?"

"You're not taking or killing anyone!!" Buffy growls through clenched teeth, then moves faster than I've ever seen her move. She whips a stake out of hiding in her clothes and attacks! She's a blur of motion! It's amazing to see!

Unfortunately, it's even more amazing to see Bad Willow gesture and freeze the Slayer in mid motion. The point of the stake stops two inches before plunging into the witch's heart. "Stake to the heart." She says. "So...you're a one-note natural blonde."

She steps around Buffy and comes closer, forcing the rest of us to take an instinctive step back. All except Tara, who steps right into Bad Willow's path. "Stop!" She says. "Stop! I'll go with you!"

"Tara, No!" Good Willow says. "What are you saying?!"

"It's the only way to save everybody." Tara says, then to Bad Willow. "I'll come. Just don't hurt anyone else."

This time Bad Willow's mask disappears. She sneers at Tara as she says: "Why on Earth would I want to be saddled with a sniveling, whining, stuttering little mouse like you?"

That makes Tara back up, feeling for Good Willow, who holds her by the shoulders. "I-I thought you w-w-would w-want me..." Tara says.

"Well, you thuh-thuh-thuh-thought wrong, McClay! Goddamn, woman! You've already emasculated one Willow! Are you trying to go for two?"

"Stop it!" Good Willow says. "You can't talk to her like that!"

"Oh? And what are you gonna do about it, Girl Scout? She's got you so afraid of exercising some real power you probably couldn't do a card trick right now! But, okay, prove me wrong! I'll give you one free spell! Hit me with your best shot."

Everyone stands still as we wait for Good Willow, wondering if she'll take her counterpart up on her offer. After several long seconds, she backs away, pulling Tara with her, as Bad Willow advances.

"Is she that good?" Bad Willow hisses at Good Willow. "Is a roll in the sack with Peasant Girl worth being so pussywhipped?"

"Willow..." Tara says softly to her girlfriend, "...you're hurting me." Good Willow's nails are digging into Tara's shoulders, and again I wonder if it's such a good idea for her to give up magic entirely. If we ever needed her to blow something away...

Her chance passes as Bad Willow brushes past them and closes on me and Xander. Dawn, ignored in the confusion, is trying her best to reanimate Buffy. Meanwhile, I cling to Xander with all my might. If she doesn't want Tara, he's the next logical choice. "You can't have him!" I say. "He's mine! I'll fight you if I have to!"

She smiles at me when I say that. "How?" She asks.

I admit, she has me there. "Well," I say, "I could...sic the IRS on you! Hey, if you control the destinies of 100 Billion souls you must be dodging a tax law or two. Not even a witch can avoid the Death of a Thousand Paper Cuts!"

She keeps smiling, then starts laughing. Great. All I did was put her in a good mood. "That's not something I've been hit with before." She says. "Well, don't worry, Anya. I don't want Xander."

"You don't?" Xander says. That better not be disappointment in his voice.

"No." Bad Willow says. "Different Universe, Same Gayness...or could you not tell from the hordes of gorgeous witches I have working for me?"

"Oh, yeah." Xander says. "Right, that makes sense. Hey, no hard feelings. Maybe you just need to find your main squeeze in a different town..."

"Well, now I'm confused." I say, because, well, I am. "You don't want him because he's not a she..."

"Right so far." She says.

"And you don't want her," I say, indicating Tara, "because she's...her?"

"You're right with me."

"But you said before that physically you were pretty much the same as our Willow, right?"

"You're three for three."

  
  


"But as far as I know, our Willow's only had intimate physical relations with three people, two of which are guys, one of which is a werewolf and the other the one you just rejected. That just leaves the girl, who you've also just rejected. If you have the same...urges as her, who else could she have been in love with that you'd want to take?"

She's still smiling, and I'm still trying to figure out the joke. "Your logic is...kinda reasonable, Anya, but it has flaws. I'm not really bound to love everybody your Willow has loved, but let's take it literally, the way you have. Suppose there were some other person in her life that she might have spent a brief moment desiring. Maybe a flash of them being together in a dream, or a fleeting thought where she wondered what it would be like to take this person for a night or a short fling. Suppose that thought, that flash, that small romantic twinge she experienced here flared into a full-blown love for me there. What would you say then?"

"Is it Buffy?" I ask, and she smiles wider.

"No, it's not Buffy." She says.

"Then I say let's find that person and send you on your way! Whew! I thought this would be hard...I mean, you'll treat her okay, right? Wouldn't want to have to go all 'Anyanka' on you."

"She'll be the Queen of the largest empire in mortal and immortal history."

"And what girl could resist that, I say. So...do we know this lucky girl?"

"Yes. Let's go."

When she says that, I notice her hand is held out, waiting for mine. "You want me to help you find her?"

She shakes her head.

"You need me to help convince her to go with you?"

She shakes her head again.

"You need me to...help plan the wedding?"

She shakes her head again, and suddenly it begins to dawn on me why I was her favorite "Scooby" tonight.

"Anya," she says, softly, "your empire awaits its Queen. Let's go."

The only time I've heard such a tone in Willow's voice is when our Willow talks to Tara about...intimate things, about loving things. All that romance, all that emotion that I expect to be aimed at Tara has suddenly been offered to me...and , uncharacteristically, I'm speechless.

The others are just as shocked as me. "ANYA??!!" They all yell in unison.

"Why not 'Anya'?" Bad Willow says.

"Because she's...she's... 'Anya'!" Good Willow says.

"Oh, good comeback." Bad Willow says. "Does Tara talk for you, too?"

  
  


"But, Me?!!" I say. "That doesn't make sense at all! Willow has never shown any romantic feelings for me, and 'Monkey Boy' here can attest to the fact that I haven't exactly thrown myself at her!"

"I can!" Xander says. "When she's throwing, I'm usually the target!"

"Anya," she says, her tone still loving but slightly scolding (just like Xander sometimes. This is getting eerie), "I told you I don't need to follow your Willow's desires exactly. I have my own desires, my own needs...but, fine. We'll do it your way. Would it help if you knew that your Willow has had those fleeting moments when she thought about being with you?"

"Have not!" Good Willow says.

"Have too," Bad Willow says, "and I can prove it." She turns and approaches Willow and Tara as she continues. "You have no idea how closely I've been watching this realm. I know all of you better than you know yourselves. It's like watching a TV show when you know all the creators and writers personally.

"I can tell you the exact moments you think about Anya that way, Willow. It happens every time she makes you mad. Every time, because your train of thought at that moment follows the exact same course. You think about how angry you are, then think about who made you angry. You wonder if she'll ever learn, if she'll discover the concept of tact, or correctness, or Modern Humanity. You think about your poor friend Xander, who not only seems to genuinely love her, but is willing to commit the rest of his natural life to someone that must make him twice as crazy. So you inevitably ask yourself, 'What does he see in her?', 'What is there about her to love that I can't see?'. Ultimately, you end up asking the same question about her that I asked about Tara: 'Is she that good?'

"Most girls would stop wondering at that point, but then, most girls are straight. You're not, and it's your sexual preference that allows you to make that tiny mental leap to actually trying to picture in your mind what having sex with her would be like. It never lasts more than a second--You don't let it--but in a second of thought, you can live a lifetime. In a second of thought, you can imagine a thousand experiences with Anya, in her bed or yours, in a car, in the Magic Box, in the park, in the cemetery. A thousand experiences, one goal: Discover what there is to Anya that would make you want to love her, worship her, possess her the way Xander does.

"Consider me the tiny part of you with the balls to act on that goal, and the clout to do it right. I came here to take a prize you've coveted from afar but would never let yourself take, because it might hurt your best friend and your current piece, and...well, like you said, she's 'Anya'. What would people think?"

It isn't often that I get to give The Look to someone else, but I'm giving it to Good Willow right now. So is Xander, and though I can't see her face from where I am, I'm sure the look Tara is giving her is a lot worse, because Good Willow is looking right back at her, with an expression that gives all the evidence of someone getting caught in a really big fib.

Bad Willow confirms my theory when she addresses Tara. "Don't worry, Peasant Girl. She still thinks about fucking you a lot more often." Then she turns and comes back toward Xander and me. This time he gets between us.

"Then why My Anya?" He says. "If there are so many Willows out there, then there's gotta be just as many Anyas."

  
  


"Not quite, Xander." She says. "There are thousands of Anyankas out there, over thousands of realities. Some have been destroyed, some have Ascended, but most waste their eternities getting petty revenge for whiny women who don't deserve true happiness, but in all those permutations there is only one Anya. This is the only place I've found where she became human, and developed this particular way. She is literally the most unique thing in the known universe. That's really what it is about her that you love, isn't it? That's what I love, too. That's why I came for her."

"You're powerful enough." Xander says, and I hear real anger in his voice. "Find a way to get another one. Anya stays."

I peek around his shoulders to see Bad Willow's reaction. If looks could kill, I'd be cradling my fiancé's lifeless corpse in my arms right now.

"What is it about my demand that is so hard for you people to grasp?" She says. "Give me what I want, and I'll go away. I want Anya. If I can't have her, no one can, and I'll guarantee that by turning this world into a desert!"

Xander doesn't respond. He just throws all his weight into a left hook. It doesn't get any closer to her face than Buffy's stake got to her heart. She stops his fist with a gesture, than twirls her hand. As she does, Xander screams as his arm twists out of its socket and breaks with three sickening pops.

"Xander!" I yell as he collapses to the floor in front of me. He's groaning through his teeth and tears are streaming down his face as he fights the pain. I hold him and try to comfort him as best I can. I look up in time to see Tara move. Her face is a study in rage and she's tearing as well, and for a fleeting moment I hope she's developed a killer instinct. She disappoints me again, moving instead to Buffy. She lays hands on the Slayer with a grunt of strain and breaks the freezing spell. Buffy looks around, quickly assessing the situation, then lets her stake fly, headed right for Bad Willow's head.

The Witch turns around and stops it in mid-flight with a wave of her hand, then a slashing motion sends it back at Buffy in a blur. The wooden shaft goes straight through Buffy's abdomen! She looks like a rag doll on its feet for a second or two, clutching her stomach and looking confused as she bleeds profusely, then she crumples to the floor with a whimper. "Buffy!" Dawn screams, following her down. "Buffy, hold on! Please!"

Tara advances, gritting her teeth. Now she develops a killer instinct! It's too late. Another gesture sends her flying through a wall! That just leaves Good Willow.

"Fight me," Bad Willow says, "deal with me. I don't care if you fight for Tara or Anya or whoever. Just show me some of the power you keep denying yourself."

They stare each other down for several seconds, then Good Willow moves...to the poker stand by the fireplace. She picks up a big poker, but before she can advance Bad Willow sends her right after Tara.

Then Bad Willow stands there, surveying the carnage she created. "Smashed, and wrecked," she says quietly, raising her hand for the final blow, "and now gone."

"STOP!" I scream.

She turns to face me. "Stop me." She says.

I don't have any choice. "I'll go with you." I say.

"Anya, No!!!" Xander grunts through his pain.

"I love you, Xander." I say, then I talk to Bad Willow. "Leave them be, and I'll go with you."

She smiles and crouches down to respond. "You've just made me the happiest woman ever. I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Fix them." I say, indicating everyone else. "Fix them all. And the house."

She looks around, then back at me. She stands and extends her hand. "Everything will be whole after we walk out the door."

I look at the hand, then at her, and then I take one last look at my one true love, then set him gently on the floor. "No, Anya, don't!" He says. "We can stop her."

No we can't. Not now. I reach out with a trembling hand and take Bad Willow's. She helps me up, then offers me her elbow. I take it like a good girl, and we walk out side by side. Her hat jumps off the couch and flies into her free hand, and she dons it with a flourish.

"Anya! ANYA!!" Xander screams at me. I'm afraid to look back, or sob out loud as we move, afraid of what she'll do to him if I do. She's happy right now, singing under her breath.

"'Steppin' out, with my baby...'"

She gives a wave of her arm as we walk down the front steps. The wolves start disappearing into a heavy mist, which turns into tiny charms that the witches outside tuck into their pockets. When the wolves are gone, the witches walk away, presumably to rendezvous wherever we're going.

The others run out of the house as we get halfway down the walk. I can hear them all calling to me. Since they haven't run down to get me, I can only assume that my escort has them trapped in the house. I can see it when we reach the limo. I turn to look back at the front door. Buffy and Xander are pounding the air just beyond it, calling out.

"Anya!!" He calls. "No matter what happens, I'll find you and bring you home!!"

I almost break down then. That's a promise I'll definitely hold him to.

The chauffeur of the limo is a tall, slender girl, in a uniform with a skirt so short that her taste in lingerie will be revealed the minute she bends over. She holds the door open for us. I get in first and sit in the backwards seat, then Bad Willow gets in and sits opposite me. The door closes and I look at Buffy's house once more before the car pulls away.

Bad Willow looks, too, then tries to comfort me. "The barrier will come down after we've left this reality." She says. "It's for the best, really. Xander may have loved you, but none of them appreciated you like I do. You'll see, dear, that I can give you everything you've ever dreamed of."

I look at her then, see that familiar face, hear that familiar voice, and realize that no matter what she says, she's not "Willow" at all. She's just a monster wearing my friend's body, and I've just committed myself to spending eternity with her.

That's when I start crying.

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	3. Something New and Different

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

Author's Note: This is the second time I posted this story, and I'd been debating whether or not to put it back up, especially considering I got zero reaction (no praise, no flames, nada. I was hurt [insert gratuitous sob here]). Two things I saw in "Older and Far Away" finally decided me. One was watching Anya finally voice a sensible opinion about Willow and magic (namely, a Willow that pushes the magic envelope can be a really useful thing at times), the other was watching Tara get all snotty about it (I would have paid to see Anya smack her into next week). So for good or ill, "'Witching Anya" is back, with three chapters so far. For those of you who like it, yes I will finish it.

'Witching Anya (3)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  


I continue to sob until we reach the school, pausing only to look out at the building when the car slows down. Sunnydale High has taken a lot of abuse since the Hellmouth opened up in town. This building is actually "Version 2.0". The first edition was blown up in an effort to kill the demon that the Mayor had "Ascended" into. Before that, any number of classrooms and other parts of the place had been wrecked in various battles between good and evil. The new building had been lucky to this point, surviving the few minor evils we've had to face since Glory was defeated and Buffy died and rose again. That all ended when Bad Willow decided to come sweep me off my feet. Though it's still standing, the suddenly beaten and run down exterior gives evidence of its use by a formidable evil. They'd had to shut the place down the day after the invasion began because of its condition, but until yesterday no one knew the bad guys were based there, since Willow's Wiccan Army tended to operate only at night.

"We're almost home." The monster says sweetly, looking out at the school. I start sobbing again, remembering that my nightmare was just beginning. She looks at me then, and reaches a hand to my face to wipe some tears away.

"Anya, please. It doesn't have to be this way." She says. "In my world you'll be the most revered woman in existence...next to me. We'll live in a palace, make the universe our playground, and you'll never have to run through graveyards chasing vampires and demons around again. You'll never have to work to make a living, and you can have all the pretty things you can possibly dream of." Bad Willow gets very close then, and whispers with a conspiratorial grin: "I even killed every bunny in my reality, just to make sure you'd never have anything to be afraid of."

You might be shocked at the horror I feel at hearing that. I am. I've had wet dreams that ended just that way, but Willow was never the one doing the killing. That's what is truly frightening. The Willow I know would never even consider such a thing. It would disgust her if she heard someone even contemplate it. Yet this Willow, my captor, did it without a second thought--as a love gift for me.

I can't see the look on my face, but I'm sure it's one of abject terror, because she tries to comfort me again. "Anya, Anya...you have to try to be positive. You will have a good life from now on, a rich, beautiful life. You shouldn't start it by being so glum, mooning over those simpletons that you're leaving behind. You have such a beautiful smile, Anya. I'd like to see it."

She just keeps looking at me, waiting for me to smile, smile about being taken away from my home, my lover, my friends! She wants me to smile at the fact that I'm being whisked away from everything I knew and loved by some...extra-dimensional stalker! Fine, I'll smile! I'll imagine my Xander keeping his promise and coming to get me, storming through the dimensional gates to whatever hell she takes me to and rescuing me. Of course he'll bring Buffy, and maybe Willow, but that's okay, because then I'll have the extra pleasure of watching the Slayer beat Bad Willow's smug face in just before the real Willow sends her to twenty different levels of Purgatory! Just the thought gives me a warm fuzzy feeling all over, and I smile wide.

Bad Willow smiles back. "There. That's better." She says cheerily. I'm glad she thinks so.

We get out of the car as soon as it stops at the door to the school, then the driver gets out and the car disappears. Willow takes my hand and leads me into the building. Her driver and her army of witches follows us in, and Willow leads the procession through the halls of Sunnydale High. As we go I'm reminded of how much I disliked this place when I was first turned mortal. It all comes back to me as we pass the water fountains, the banners, the trophy case, the Principal's Office. I'm reminded of being old enough to have met Nostradamus but too young to buy a beer, the frailty and outright immaturity of the average human teenager...oh, yeah, then there was Math! Ugh!

We enter the double doors to the Swimming Pool Room, and I get my first glimpse of the source of the witch army. There's some sort of odd green glow coming from the Olympic-sized pool, but I barely have time to register that before I notice something else that makes me freeze in my tracks.

"Spike??!" I say as I take in the sight of him. He's suspended in mid-air, his hands raised high above him as if he were hanging by some invisible rope. There's a cluster of witches around him, and they're taunting and laughing at him, and scratching him with wooden blades. His clothes are in tatters around him, and he looks worse than he did after his encounter with Glory. I can tell he's in pain, no matter how hard he holds back his screams.

At the sound of my voice he manages to turn his head to look at me. "An..." he groans, unable to talk further. At that the witches turn to see who's come in, and I get my next surprise of the night.

"Faith!!" I hiss through my teeth. My blood boils at the sight of the bogus slayer in the uniform of one of Bad Willow's henchwomen!

She ignores me and addresses Willow with a smile on her face. "You found her!" She says, with what seems like heartfelt joy.

"It wasn't hard." Willow says. "I just had to look for the do-gooders in this reality and she was with them."

"Still, you did it without having to crush this world under your heel." Faith says as she comes closer. "Or, am I being premature?"

Willow seems to think about it, then glances at me and looks at Faith. "I made a promise." She says. "We'll leave, and in, oh, one hour I'll seal off the portal between our worlds. No one from either side will be able to come through, so make sure you get everyone back home by then."

"Of course, Sorceress." Faith says. Her tone is reverent, as if she's just addressed the Pope. "Do you want us to kill him?" She asks, indicating Spike.

Willow looks at him, then at me again. I can tell that what she's about to say goes against her instincts, but as she said before, she did promise. "Don't kill him. Find someplace...creative to dump him before you leave."

Faith smiles at that. "I have a couple of ideas already." She says, then turns to look at me. "I'm so happy for you." She says softly, and I can see she means it! She reaches out to touch my cheek, then looks back at Willow. "For both of you. You just get her home, Sorceress. We'll mop up here." Then she moves off, screaming "All right, let's pack it up! We got a portal to catch!"

Willow leads me to the pool as the witches start gathering nearby. "I can't believe Faith works for you!" I say. "Sure, she's a criminal, but she was an evil slayer, not an evil witch!"

"I know what your Faith is," Willow says, "but that Faith is my most trusted General. I never go anywhere without her. And she liked you. I told you. Everyone will love you." We reach the edge of the pool. "Are you ready?"

I look down and see the source of the green glow. Instead of water, the pool is filled with a coursing green flame, giving off light but not heat. In fact, it feels very cold standing near it.

"Not really." I say.

"It won't hurt at all." Willow says. "It will feel a little cold to you, but that's the extent of the discomfort. Just hold on to me and you'll be fine." With that, she puts her arm around the small of my back, pulling me so close I have no choice but to put my arms around her. She closes her other arm around me and takes a moment to hug me, to press my body into hers. Before I can completely digest the situation she falls over, dragging me with her, and we fall straight into the green flame.

Sub-zero cold hits my body like a freight train as we pass through the surface of the flame. I'm breathless the whole trip, shivering as what seems like an eternal winter assaults me. Finally the trip ends, and I feel a solid floor beneath my feet.

I take a moment to look around as I catch my breath and shiver from the residual cold. We've landed in the center of a room about the size of a massive airplane hanger. The architecture is dark and gothic, but other than that the room is empty, lit only by several torches in the walls and the green glow of the portal, which is now sitting like an angry storm cloud above our heads.

I jump as I start to feel a strange warmth flow over my body, as if I were sharing body heat with a half-dozen surfers. It doesn't take me long to realize Willow is doing it as she holds me close. I shake her off and pull away. I hug myself and shiver from fear, trying hard not to think about how...natural that felt.

Willow doesn't yell or go ballistic. She just looks at me with that same stupid grin she's been giving me all night. "Do you feel better?" She asks sweetly.

I look away. I don't want to let on what I'm thinking. The warmth did feel good after such a cold trip.

"Willow!" A voice calls out from nowhere, and my eyes go wide as I recognize it. God, not her, too! I turn my head to look at where the voice came from, and my heart sinks as yet another familiar form comes running toward us.

  
  


"Hey, Dawnie! Miss me?" Willow says as she leads me away from the portal. As we approach the teenager it all makes sense to me. Willow thinks of herself as an Imperial Ruler. She came to my reality looking for a consort, but she already had an heir. As parallel as our worlds seem to be, her world's Dawn would be the natural choice. I should have seen it coming. What truly shocks me is the way Dawn is dressed. Her white silk blouse is conservative enough, but her skirt is as short as the chauffeur's. What person in her right mind would allow a teenage girl to dress like that?

Then I remember how I got here, and make a mental note to stop asking myself stupid questions.

Willow and Dawn close and Dawn jumps into the bad witch's arms with a squeal. "I sensed you were back almost immediately!" Dawn says, proud of herself. They part to arms' length and the girl shoots a glance my way before talking to Willow again. "You really did it!" She says. "You brought her back, just like you said!"

I feel my face flush, embarrassed by all the worship. Dawn is practically giddy about my arrival.

"Remember what I told you about getting what you want?" Willow says.

"'If there's a way to get it, don't let anything stop you,'" Dawn says, as if quoting Socrates. "'If you can't get it, use someone that can.'"

"Yay, team." I mutter.

"I'm sure glad she got you, Anya." Dawn says. "Now maybe we can have a little peace around here."

"Dawn..." Willow says, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

"You should have been here when she first saw you." Dawn says with a chuckle. "She thinks you are sooo cute! As soon as she saw you in the scrying pool she was like 'Oh, My Goddess! Who is that?' And then she's all lost and starstruck and she spends like two solid days just watching your every move!"

"Dawn..." Willow says again, less embarrassment and more irritation this time. I barely register it, because I'm suddenly agonizing about what Willow might have seen watching me for "two solid days".

Dawn keeps right on talking. "Last week was the worst. She went over the invasion plan with Faith like a million times, just over and over again till it drove Faith nuts, because she just knew she wasn't leaving that place without you! She'd tell everyone within earshot that this was the biggest trip she'd ever take in her life--"

"Dawn!" Willow barks, and the pleasant face she was maintaining for me disappears, replaced by a look of controlled but mounting rage. It shuts Dawn up, and the girl looks at her with outright fear in her eyes. She tries to pull away, but Willow's hands have her in a tight grip at the shoulders. Dawn's knees knock a couple of times, and she starts to squirm ever so slightly in her master's clutches.

"I-I'm sorry, Willow," she says softly, pleadingly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'd never do that! I just wanted her to know how much you loved her. Please, Willow, I'm sorry!"

  
  


There's a long, frightening moment where no one speaks and I'm left to wonder about this Willow's concept of discipline, since whatever it must be has Dawn terrified. My heart stops when I see Willow reach a hand toward Dawn's neck, then Dawn and I both let out quiet breaths when the hand passes her neck and starts to play with her long brown hair.

"I'll tell her in my own time, Dawn." Willow says. Her face has softened enough to mask what anger was there, but a trace of it is still evident. "Things like that are between Anya and Me, and nothing for you to worry about, right?"

"R-right," Dawn says, nodding. "Of course...I shouldn't have said anything." Dawn seems to have calmed a little. She's no longer trying to escape Willow's grasp, but she's afraid to look the witch in the eye.

Finally Willow lets her go. "Isn't there some homework you have to finish?" She says.

Dawn nods and turns to go, pausing to talk to me. "Finals are coming soon. I have to practice Transdimensional Displacement. It's tough, but I had a good teacher. You'll like it here, Anya." With that she turns to leave, trotting back the way she came until she disappears at the far end of the room. I look hard for a door or a staircase in that direction, but I don't see any way she could have gotten in or out of the room.

"I home-school her." Willow says. "Public schools don't provide the kind of education she needs to rule the Empire I'll leave her someday."

"How enlightened of you." I mutter.

"I'll have to stay here for a while, so I won't be able to help you get settled in. My Administrator should be on her way to do that right now."

Her attention is on the spot where Dawn disappeared, so I look that way as well. I watch in awe as a figure materializes into the room, literally fades in like a ghost. When she's solid, I can see she's dressed differently from the other witches I've seen. Her blouse is like Dawn's, but instead of slacks or a micromini she's in a tasteful, knee-length skirt, like something that I would wear. She's holding a notepad computer and electronic pen close to her chest, and she's wearing the same cheerful grin on her face as Willow.

She's also the one person in any world that I'm not surprised to see at Bad Willow's right hand.

"Hello, Anya." She says to me as she gets close.

"Hello, Amy." I say.

"I'm so glad you made it through." She says, offering her hand. "Welcome to our world."

I scowl and turn away. Seeing Amy is the perfect end to a perfectly crappy week. I focus my attention on the portal, wondering when Faith and her Army will come falling out of it.

"She needs some time to adjust." Willow says. "You'll take care of that, won't you?"

"Of course, Sorceress." Amy says. Just then the first witches start coming through.

"Anya," Willow says, "I'd like you to go with Amy. She can show you around the place, if you'd like."

  
  


I'd like to go back through the portal, but since that's not likely to happen I follow Rat-Girl to the spot where she came in. I didn't notice before, but there's a pentagram on the floor with a black disk in the center. Amy steps right on it, but I hesitate.

"Willowcoven is too big to walk around in." Amy says. "This portal disk will take us anywhere in the estate."

"'Willowcoven'?" I say.

"The name of the palace. If you want, we can start the tour in the Reception Hall..."

"No. I don't want a tour. I just need to rest."

"Very well." She says. "Just step on the disk."

I do as she says, very slowly. As soon as both my feet are on the disk the empty room disappears around us, and a new one appears. We're in a sitting room, almost as large as my apartment back home, furnished as luxuriously as any mansion featured in Metropolitan Home.

"Willow had this suite of rooms set aside for you." Amy says. "The bedroom is through that door, and the bath is through the door inside. There's a coat closet out here, and a walk-in closet in the bedroom. Of course, we've provided an entire wardrobe for you."

I let her talk for a moment while I get my bearings. It is a very pretty room, which means I'll be a comfortable prisoner here, at least.

"You can call down to have meals brought up to you," Amy says, "but you might want to eat in the Dining Room. it's very beautifully decorated and the entire serving staff will be available to fulfill your every need."

"Why do you call her 'Sorceress'?" I say as I look around. Maybe I can get some useful information out of her.

"Well...there's no title of royalty in the Wiccan Lexicon. 'High Priestess' is as close as the terminology gets, but since this is a secular coven it doesn't really fit Willow's role. She wouldn't accept the titles 'Queen' or 'Empress'. 'Sorceress' works because a sorceress is more than a mere Witch."

"How many witches are in Willow's coven?" I ask as I look into the bedroom. There's a huge four-poster bed with a queen-size mattress that dominates the room, covered in silks and lace.

"Too many to count." Amy says. I frown at the inconclusive answer. "We recruit more every time we conquer a new world...millions more."

"You're a witch. Count them magically."

There's a slight pause, but I soon hear a chastened Amy say: "Yes, Mistress." At that I turn to look at her, and she chants and manipulates her notepad computer. After a minute or two of this she smiles at me and says proudly: "Three hundred million, four hundred and thirty-seven thousand, nine hundred and twenty-two."

"Ah-hah." I say, masking the state of shock I'm in. If Buffy is going to vanquish this Willow she's going to have to put in a bunch of overtime. "Wherever do you keep so many witches?"

  
  


"Oh, they're not all in one spot." Amy says. "Most of them are deployed to the different realities in Willow's Empire."

"And how many of those would there be?"

"Twenty-two, at last count."

"Interesting." Twenty-two??! Willow has conquered twenty-two whole realities in the few years she's been a witch in this realm??!! I've known pure demons that would sell everybody's grandmothers just to rule more than one!

My questioning is getting me nowhere. All I'm learning is that the only difference between Willow and the average Witch Goddess is modesty on Willow's part. That means I'll have to try a different tack. I head into the bedroom as I think of one. The chamber is even prettier up close, done up in shades of pink and lavender.

Something occurs to me as I check out the walk-in closet (Wow! Big closet! You could fit Sachs Fifth Avenue in here...and I think somebody did!). "Amy, you called me 'Mistress', before. Why?"

"Because that's what you are..." Amy answers from the doorway, "...or at least, what you will be when you and Willow are betrothed. As her consort, I serve you as I serve the Sorceress."

I turn to look at her. "So that means you have to do what I tell you?"

Amy nods. "As long as your wishes don't conflict with Willow's."

"And that goes for everyone else?"

"Yes. Except for Willow and Dawn, everyone in the Empire is subject to your will."

I have to stop for a minute and let that sink in. The people in twenty-two realities are subject to my whim. Willow is honest if nothing else. That really would make me "Queen of the largest empire in mortal and immortal history." For a second, I wonder if it isn't best to just sit back and enjoy it. Then I remember that I tend not to enjoy much anymore if I don't have Xander to share it with. So instead of doing the practical thing and planning to erect huge statues of me in all my domains, I plot to use my newfound authority to search for a way back home.

I start with getting myself some time alone. "Well, my 'will' is sapped right now, Amy. I need to rest. We don't have to see everything tonight. I'd just like to stay here and let everything sink in. I want to rest now, maybe take a bubble bath, and we can start again tomorrow."

"Very well." Amy says. "Shall I send something up for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry. I just need to be alone and rest. Please see to it that no one disturbs me until morning."

"No one?" She says, caution in her voice. "Not even Willow?"

"No one." I say. "Not even Willow." Especially not Willow! I think.

Amy looks wary, but as she just said, she has to do as I wish. "Of course, Mistress." She says, then hurries from the room.

  
  


I wait a minute, then walk out into the sitting room. Amy is gone without a trace. Now that I've decided what I'm going to do, I just need to wait for the right moment to act. In the meantime, I plan to make good use of the opulent sunken tub I saw in the bathroom. The bubbles should help me relax, so that I can focus on my escape later on.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


I'm up till 2 A.M. before I'm convinced it's reasonably safe to move around the mansion. Wearing a lacy peignoir and silk robe I found in the walk-in closet, I go into the sitting room and head for the portal disk. Though I don't know what they call it here, I'm pretty sure of the room I want to be in. I try to picture what the place would look like in my mind and hold onto that image as I step onto the disk.

My suite disappears and I suddenly find myself in a space bigger than the one I first arrived in, only this room is filled with exactly what I need. It's an apothecary, a conjurer's pharmacy, filled with magic potions, charms, powders, icons and anything else a witch or sorcerer might need to perform a certain spell. There are dozens of racks with hundreds of bottles and vials in here, and there's a library's worth of magic texts. It's like the Magic Box on Steroids. The space is lit by a soft white glow coming from the floor, the ceiling and the few worktables that I can find.

For a moment I despair, sure that I'll never find everything that I need before morning, but then I spot something that makes my task infinitely easier. I guess the "library" analogy is a good one. The apothecary has a card catalog.

After searching the catalog I find the spell and ingredients that I need and gather them on one of the worktables. Now it'll just be a matter of minutes before I have the means to escape this gilded cage. I'm almost giddy with the prospect of freedom.

"Hello, Anya."

My fingers are barely touching the first bottle when I hear that voice. My blood runs cold and I gulp, and I try not to shiver openly. She's right behind me! She must have transported in and walked over from the disk without making any noise. I would have thought it impossible, but there's no other explanation.

I turn around and look into the face of the witch standing a few feet behind me. The look on Willow's face, strangely, is one of concern, not anger. It doesn't matter. No matter what she looks like when she realizes what I'm doing, I'm screwed.

"Anya," she says, "it's very late...and you've got some explaining to do."

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	4. The Gang was All Here

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  


Author's Note: I hope you're still out there. I said I'd finish this thing and I will! This chapter's a long one so get cozy before you start reading it. Some really-not-for-kids stuff here too, so if you didn't pay attention to the rating, do so now!

  
  


'Witching Anya (4)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  
  
  


Usually I consider myself a rather articulate person. My command of the English language is impeccable, in my own humble opinion, especially considering that it didn't exist in its current form when I first learned to speak it. My diction is flawless, as is my sentence structure, and though I haven't quite gotten it to the stage where it's idiomatic and colloquial, at least I've managed not to infect it with "thee's" and "thou's".

So...what do I say when Bad Willow catches me red-handed attempting to escape?

"D'uhh...uumm...w-whuh..."

Smooth, Anya.

Willow simply smiles at me and moves closer to the table, brushing past me gently as she examines the ingredients. She picks up a few of the bottles and looks closely at them. "Hmmm," she says, "a displacement spell. A simple one."

"I-I can explain!" I blurt out as she continues to look at the magicks. Of course, I actually have no idea what I'll say, but maybe I can stall for time. I mean, she hasn't killed me yet. Maybe I still have luck I can press. "It's...um...a present! That's it! I was going to transport in a present for you, in appreciation for all that you've given me." I smile, because I'm especially proud of this lie. After all, I did come up with it under pressure.

Willow doesn't give me time to be smug. "Anya", she scolds, "this spell is very limited. You could only use it to displace something within your line of sight." She turns to face me, still smiling. "That means, if you were really going to give me a present, it would already have to be somewhere in this room. Well, I love presents, Anya. Where is it?"

My throat catches as she looks around a little, then focuses back on me. "I...I-it's...um..."

"Y'know what I think, Sweetie?" She says, suddenly looking all pensive and coming closer. "I think you were really trying to displace yourself out of the palace. I think that maybe, just maybe, you hoped you could displace yourself all the way back to your reality."

"That's a...valid theory..." is all I can bring myself to say. Willow nods and smiles again.

"Oh, Anya. No one can get to your tired old reality from here anymore, now that I've sealed off this world from that one. And even if you could, you couldn't have done it with this spell. It's not very long-ranged. At best, you might have ended up a few feet outside the coven walls. Then what would you have done?"

What would I have done? That was the only translocation-type spell I had committed to memory. If I had succeeded in using it, I'd still be screwed.

"I know." Willow says. "You could have tried to find someone here that could help. Someone in this world that may not be...entirely comfortable with my concept of world order."

"True," I say, "but don't take it personally. I'm a good guy now. It's just what I do."

Willow nods. "I do know. It's one of the things I find so irresistible about you. It's just...well, I hate to disappoint you, but it would be a very long time before you found anyone sympathetic to your plight."

Suddenly I feel the need to defend myself. "That can't be true. I mean, there must be a Slayer here as well...and maybe she has friends here that would help me. And there's Xander! Not my Xander but the Xander from this world. I could convince him to help me...unless he's a vampire or something. Wait! Vampires! Maybe the Angel or Spike from this world would help me."

The look Willow is giving me convinces me that maybe it's not such a good idea to brag about all my escape plans. "I guess I'll just have to show you." She says, and holds out her hand. I dread taking it, remembering where I ended up the last time. Once she has a firm grip on my hand she leads me to the portal disk in the room. We step onto it and the apothecary disappears. A sudden nighttime chill makes me shiver in my bedclothes. We're in some sort of tower, with large, open windows decorated with arcane carvings. The only light comes from the full moon in the night sky. Not all my trembling comes from the cold air. Even the shadows seem to be alive.

"This is the highest spot in Willowcoven." Willow says, as if she's just brought me to Lover's Lane. "You can see everything from here." She drags me to one of the windows and has me look out. As I peer into the night she wraps an arm around my shoulders and huddles close. I feel that sense of warmth flow over my body again. Much as I'd like to, this time I don't fight it, deciding that being creeped out is better than freezing to death.

"See those lights...over there?" She says, pointing. "That's Sunnydale. My Sunnydale."

I look closely. Off in the distance I see the lights of a small town. I could tell it was Sunnydale anywhere. I guess from reality to reality, no matter the players, Sunnydale never changes.

Then I take a closer look, and it suddenly hits me where I am. "We're at UC Sunnydale, aren't we?"

Willow nods. "I built Willowcoven on the campus. Of course, the school had to go..."

"Wait...you built it on the WHOLE campus??"

"I like big houses." She says, a little defensively.

  
  


I squint my eyes and try to picture the circumstances in my head. She wiped a college for over Thirty Thousand students off the map just to build a house on the property. A house that covered every square inch of the land the college was on. The dorms! Fraternity and Sorority Rows! The lecture halls! The admin buildings! To replace all that with one house...no wonder you needed magic to get around inside it!

But the most horrible thought of all screams at me. "Um, Willow...the students, the faculty, the librarians...where were they all when the school...'went'?"

Willow just looks out the window. "Their classes will never end," she says softly, "but...collectively, they give new meaning to the phrase 'School Spirit'."

That's when I break away, desperate to find the portal disk and get away from her, but she catches me and grabs me! I try to struggle out of her grip, but she's too strong.

"You've got to stay, Anya!" She yells at me. "You have to see." She says in a quieter tone. "You have to understand your new world." When I don't stop immediately, she whispers: "You promised me."

I stop struggling then, because I remember that our deal works two ways. She left my world...my former world...alive and intact, only because I promised to make a home with her in this one. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then allow her to lead me back to the window.

"Sunnydale is what you'd call a 'company town' now." She says, doing the "Tour Guide" thing. "Most of the apartment and office buildings have been converted into barracks for the garrisons of my Army that stay in this reality, while the rest are used as administrative offices for my empire, performing all the functions that we don't take care of here. The suburbs and the Heights are populated by my senior administrators. Most of the businesses still in town are there to supply my people with goods or services. You'll appreciate this, Anya. The Magic Box here has expanded into a one-stop supernatural outlet. It covers four full city-blocks in the business district and is our biggest contractor."

So...my store is the Lockheed-Martin of this universe. Yippee. I miss my little storefront already. (Well...I wouldn't have minded turning that store into the "Magical Microsoft" of my reality, but at least my friends were with me to help me enjoy what I had.) "Look, Willow, all of this is very fascinating, but what does this have to do with why I won't find someone to help me if I escape you. What about Xander and the others?"

She gives me that look again, as if I've mentioned the Prince of Darkness or something. "Anya...what have you noticed about my organization?"

"You mean 'What have I noticed' that isn't obvious? Like the fact that you're all psycho-Nazi witches? That you have phenomenal cosmic power and you're essentially nothing more than my personal stalker? That you're abnormally prone to Independence Day-like violence considering that you're all..."

Suddenly, it hits me what she wants me to realize. I look out the window again, this time with fervent interest.

"You're all women." I say. "There's nothing but women in Sunnydale."

She smiles at that. "More precisely, there's nothing but...'psycho-Nazi witches' in Sunnydale."

Of course. It's a "company town", and if the company is made up of nothing but enchanted women..."Where are all the men?" I say.

"I needed a capitol," she says, "and they...got in the way."

"You mean they rebelled! They wouldn't take it lying down so they tried to stop you! Men like Giles and Oz, undead ones like Angel and Spike! Men like Xander..."

"Xander was my best friend!!" Willow growls at me through clenched teeth. It's the first time she's ever directed any of her rage at me. Her eyes are the deepest, fullest black I've ever seen. In that moment I realize the terror her Dawn felt. I feel the fear wrench my gut and raise the hackles on the back of my neck.

Then Willow closes her eyes and shakes her head. When she opens her eyes again they're normal, but the look on her face hasn't improved. Sadness has mixed with the anger, and she looks away from me and out of the window.

"He tried to stop me from realizing my full potential." Willow says quietly. "He didn't want me to become...'me'. He wanted me to stay a nothing. When he couldn't have that, he organized a resistance." She turns to face me. "You would have been proud of him. I was, in a way. He was like Spartacus, Cincinattus, Joshua...any man who rallied men to great, noble causes. The men of Sunnydale joined his crusade in droves when I started to reform the world, following him like lemmings into the fire.

"He said he did it because he loved me. I believe him. I loved him, too...and that made it very, very hard for me to crush him, and anyone who had ever followed him, or would ever invoke his name to rally others."

You Bitch! I think as she looks out the window again. I see her lip quiver, her eyes darken, but no matter what play-acting she does she'll never convince me that she ever gave a damn about killing anybody, not even her best friend. All I can do is pray that My Xander doesn't meet a similar fate when he comes for me.

"Depressed Now..." she says, then looks back at me. "You are too, I see. Let's go someplace where we can be 'not depressed'." With that, she takes my hand and leads me back to the portal disk, and we leave the tower and it's painful view of my new home.

  
  
  
  


The room we emerge in is astonishing. It's about as big as the Staging Room we first arrived in, but this place is done up like an ornate banquet hall, in deep red hues, with drapes and bunting everywhere. The portal disk is at one end of the room, and at the far end is a massive red curtain that covers the opposite wall. There are banquet tables lining the side walls, and there seems to be a party going on.

I take a closer look at the party-goers and my eyes widen. There are hundreds of people here. All women, all dressed in outfits ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous, most deeply engrossed in conversation. Some are dancing, some are necking, and at least one adventurous couple is "decisively engaged" in action standing up in a far corner. The second-most astounding thing about it is that there is absolutely no sound. I'd say you could hear a pin drop, but I doubt even that sound would register. It seems the room is designed to silence everything.

The most astounding thing is what I see when the party guests notice our arrival. They all turn to look toward the portal disk, and I manage to get a good look at their faces...or should I say "face". There are different clothes and different hairstyles, but every party-goer in the room is the exact same woman.

Every single one of them is a different version of Cordelia Chase.

I glance at Willow, just in time to see a smile cross her face. "Not Depressed Now." She says as she takes in the sight before us. There is a sea of Cordelias looking at us, smiling wide and quivering with anticipation, as if they'd been waiting forever for us to arrive.

Willow doesn't disappoint. She walks toward the crowd, leaving me to follow on my own. The Cordelias start to advance toward us, arms outstretched, as if they intend to take us into their midst. Willow doesn't miss a step, reaching the crowd and letting the mass of doppelgangers fall in on her. I walk more slowly, hesitant, but eventually I, too, am surrounded.

I never really knew Cordelia Chase well. She was just another scorned woman to me when I first met her, just another wish to grant. She was gone to California before I started spending as much time with Buffy and her friends as she used to, and now that she works with Angel and he's so busy in Los Angeles I rarely have any contact with her.

These...copies, whatever they are, seem to be trying to make up for that. They press in on us, beaming at us with perfect lips and teeth, making admiring small talk without uttering a sound, reaching out to brush us with their fingertips, desperate to make contact, get our attention. They have mine, certainly, and not just because of their Xeroxed features. I see them wearing some amazing clothes. Costumes, really. They mimic standard clothing, but are cut and styled to arouse, like the wardrobe in porno movies. A Cordelia in a business suit is nearest to me, a suit with a scandalous micromini. Right by her is a Cordelia in an LAPD uniform with full regalia, her blouse buttoned low enough to show off her cleavage. There's another in a fabulous long black dress, slit practically up to her fanny and with a seductively low back. And another in a string bikini and sarong, tanned to perfection. They keep coming at me like butterflies in a jar, a constantly shifting mass of "babes" all sporting the exact same looks.

"Aren't they wonderful?" Willow says. I look around some of the Cordelias surrounding me and spot her just ahead, admiring another Cordelia in a Sunnydale High School Cheerleader Uniform, cut for maximum sluttiness. Her midriff is bare, her top is slashed so deep that her breasts seem ready to fall out, her skirt is about a third of the length of the real thing, and I doubt seriously that she has anything on under it. There are other doppelgangers all over her, but the cheerleader is obviously Willow's favorite.

"This is my 'Life-Size Cordy' Collection." She says, turning to me and grinning. "I have the only one in the world. All of them are 'Fully Posable', and very, VERY, interactive." With that, she strokes the back of one of "Cheerleader Cordy's" legs, all the way up to the clone's butt. As the hem of the skirt lifts, my suspicions about her choice of undergarments are confirmed. The clone falls into Willow's embrace then with a silent gasp, her eyes closed and her lips open wide. Willow plants a wet one on the cheerleader, groping her at the same time. I turn my attention away as Cheerleader Cordy's legs start to quiver and her pom-poms rattle.

My eyes rest on "Evening Dress Cordy", who's drawn very close to me since I last saw her. The resemblance to Cordy is fascinating. I can't imagine how Willow could have created them all. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I reach out to touch her smiling face.

She reacts as if I've fired a starting gun. The slightest touch must be a signal. She falls into me, catching me in an embrace and sliding her black silk-clad body into my robed one. I just barely manage to stop her from sticking her tongue down my throat with an upraised hand. She backs off, looking confused and hurt. I'm not surprised. I'm sure that, given Willow's motivations for bringing them to life, they've never been refused before.

  
  


They get bonus points for trying. When the other nearby Cordies see that I've turned down the first, they all close in, each determined to be the one to satisfy me. "Patrolwoman Cordy" catches me from behind and begins to nuzzle my neck. "Sarong Cordy" drops her top and presses her naked chest to my shoulder. An "Aerobics Trainer Cordy" runs up and proceeds to rub against me as she strips out of her sports bra and bike shorts.

"No!" I say. "No! Stop!" Each one backs off almost in tears as I reject her, but new ones just take their place. I push them away and scold them verbally, but more just keep coming. "Willow! Help me!" I call as I try to push through them, but Willow is already moving away, with Cheerleader Cordy hanging from her like a whore. She trades sloppy kisses and rude fondles with other Cordies as she makes her way to the other end of the room. I notice that they aren't freaking because Willow isn't paying more attention to them, and it occurs to me that they might simply be waiting for me to make a choice.

I look around for Evening Dress Cordy. She's still near me, despair still on her face. She must be distraught trying to figure out why I shunned her. I reach out my hand to her. "Let's go slow." I say.

I almost smile when I see her face light up. She pushes past the others and takes my hand, then stands in front of me demurely. I nod to show her I'm pleased, then press on with her at my side. Sarong Cordy sneaks over to my other side and slips her hand into my free one. "Fine." I say and let her stay. Others get the hint and slip in. I feel hands on both my shoulders as I walk, then their owners move close and gently cuddle with me. They get the message. I'm pleased as long as they don't throw themselves at me. Surrounded by several admirers, I rush to catch up with Willow.

She's not resisting at all. When I catch her she's practically doing it walking with a half dozen half-naked Cordies. Cheerleader Cordy has most of her attention, of course, but "Tomb Raider Cordy" looks like she's about to reach the "pleasure moment" due to the Witch's magical ministrations. My mouth drops as she swaps spit with "Baywatch Cordy", and I shut my eyes as "French Maid Cordy" offers her master a breast to suckle.

"Excuse me!" I say. "Remember me? You're greatest love?" That gets Willow's attention, and she stops long enough for me to catch up. She turns to face me with a curious look, wiping her smeared lips on her sleeve.

"Not having fun, sweetie?" She asks. For a moment the image of her in her robe, surrounded by unrepentant sluts, gives me the impression of that old guy that runs the Naked Werebunny Empire.

"Forgive me if being womanhandled by Pornographic Debutantes is not my idea of fun." I say.

She thinks about it for a moment. "I guess it is a bit much to take all at once." She says.

"Besides," I say, "I thought you were supposed to be showing me why I can't leave you."

"I am." Willow says, then nods to her Cordies, who follow my Cordies' lead as we continue across the room.

Now that I don't have to watch the live sex show I feel a little better, and I can take a more analytical look at our traveling companions. "These copies really are amazing." I say. "I just can't figure out why they don't make any sounds."

"Cordies should be seen," Willow professes, "never heard."

"I guess." I say. "So...how do you make them? Are they robots, or shape-shifting demons? Or are they apparitions of some kind? They seem so real."

Willow looks over her shoulder at me. "Are you sure you want to know?" She asks me, mischievously.

For a moment I hesitate. After all I've seen, I'm not sure. Then again, how horrible could it be? "Sure. I want to know."

She chuckles as she faces ahead again. "We're almost there."

It takes us a minute or so longer to get to the other side of the room, trailing our respective fan clubs. When we clear the Sea of Cordelias I find myself staring at the big, red, plush curtain. It goes all the way up to the cathedral ceiling. I'm about to ask what's behind it when I notice Willow bidding her Cordies to move back into the fold with a wave of her hand. I wave my hand the same way, and my Cordies step back and let me go forward alone. Then Willow and I move closer to the curtain. When I glance back at the Cordies, I notice they're all looking at the curtain in awe.

I want to ask now, but Willow starts talking. "They're not robots, or demons, or ghosts. Although I could, I'd never do anything so crass. You see, when I had the opportunity to start my collection, I knew, just knew, that I had to get them right from the source."

With that she gestures at the curtain. It parts with a soft hiss...and I gasp at what I see beyond it.

There's a block with glass walls, ten feet high and wide, framed with gold. Inside is a massive, gray, jagged rock, looking as if it had been ripped right off some huge outcropping. There's a person inside, lashed spread-eagle to the rock by massive chains. She's frail, thin, malnourished to the point where her ribs are sticking out. Her eyes are closed, and the dirt in her hollow face is streaked with the trails of tears. She's naked, but there's nothing attractive about her pathetic form. There's nothing but a shock of hair at the top of her head, and her pale skin is covered with deep scars.

I move close enough to the glass to touch it with my hands and see every inch of its prisoner. I already know who it is, but part of me won't acknowledge it. Part of me still hopes I'm mistaken. Then the prisoner opens her eyes and looks at me, and the gorge rises in my throat as I realize I can't deny what's right in front of me.

This poor soul is the Cordelia Chase of this reality.

I look back at the "Cordy" Collection. They're still staring in the direction of the glass cage, as if wondering what the strange creature inside was. Evening Dress Cordy stops staring when she notices my gaze and smiles at me, just as brightly and prettily as ever, but now the expression just fills me with dread and pity...and rage!

I turn on Willow, only to see her smiling at me the way she's been doing all night. "What are you doing to her?!" I demand through my teeth.

"Well, Anya, you wanted to know where I got my Cordies." She says, advancing on the glass cage. "Here. Let me show you." She stretches out her hand and it penetrates the glass as easily as sunlight. "I just reach all the way in," she says, and her hand penetrates Cordelia's skin just above her pelvis.

  
  


Cordelia screams, and though there is no actual sound, the impression of her scream forms in the back of my mind, like an echo of a little voice. I look at where Willow's hand has gone through and see the area is smoldering like a lit cigarette. The wound is smoking and sparking, though Willow doesn't seem to feel it at all.

"Then," She says, "I dig around a little, and pull out a teeny, tiny piece of her soul." Then she yanks her hand out, causing Cordy to scream louder. The wound left behind automatically reduces itself to a long, thin scar.

Willow's hand is balled into a fist. She opens it, and I see a tiny spark of light inside. She closes the fist again, then holds it out in front of her.

"Then, I use a few minor spells to shape and mold it." Her hands squeeze and twist around the tiny spark, causing Cordelia to scream continuously. The spark expands and pulses under the pressure, flashes and shines until it takes a vaguely female shape. Cordelia's screams devolve into agonized moans as Willow runs her hands all over the apparition in front of her, creating bright arcs of mystical energy that carve the raw mass into a solid shape. One final mystic bolt crashes down on the light sculpture, leaving a brand new "Life-Size Cordy" standing dizzily in Willow's arms. She's dressed like Trinity in The Matrix, all in tight, shiny black leather. Willow doesn't give her long to get her bearings. She pulls "Matrix Cordy" close and kisses her full on the mouth.

"Please...stop..." Cordy's voice sounds in my head. I look at the captive. She's got her eyes closed again, and her head is jerking back and forth, as if she's trying to avoid something.

Of course she is! "She can feel everything, can't she?" I say. "Everything you do to these...pieces of her?"

"Mmmm...that's the fun of it." Willow says softly as she comes up for air. A smiling Matrix Cordy moves to Willow's side to huddle up against her shoulder. When the Witch can finally turn her attention back to me, she asks: "Would you like one, dear? Something just for you?"

I look back at Cordelia. Her eyes are shut tight now. She looks like she's praying...no...not praying, she's trying to say a chant or a spell. I let it wash over my mind, hoping I can make out what she's saying.

"I...I wuh...I wuh...I...w-wish..."

Granted! "I don't want one of these abominations, Willow. I don't want any of them! I want them gone! Get rid of them RIGHT NOW!!"

An odd look comes over Willow's face. Good. The rage in my voice had the right effect. "You know," she says, "you're right. I don't need them anymore. I have you now. You're all I need." She pulls away from Matrix Cordy and comes toward me, leaving the doppelganger standing there confused and lost. "Time to put away my toys." When she's about arms length from her latest creation she kisses her index and middle fingers and turns, then touches them to Matrix Cordy's forehead.

I watch in horror as the thing catches fire! Soon it's engulfed in flames. Then I realize that they're all burning away, filling the room with an eerie, flickering glow! All of them twist in pain, screaming noiselessly at the torture of being cooked alive! No, only Cordelia's voice registers, in my head, letting out the most terrifying scream of all!

  
  


"Not that way, damn you!!" I scream as I rush back to the glass cage. I pound on the glass with all my might but it won't break! I can't do anything but watch helplessly as Cordy writhes in the agony of hundreds of others, and I feel tears roll down my cheeks and my lip tremble with sorrow.

The Cordies burn until there is nothing left but ash. Willow puts out the fires with a gesture, then blows the ash a kiss. It kicks up a gust of wind that carries the ash into the air, and then it disappears completely, leaving the massive hall empty save for us.

"All gone." Willow says as she surveys the scene, then turns to me and smiles, as if she's just given me flowers for my birthday. Cordelia has finally stopped screaming, but now she's lost in a wave of heartrending sobs.

My voice cracks as I beg Willow. "Let her go...please!"

Willow comes closer and wipes a tear from my cheek. "I wish I could, my love," she says, giving me a look of sympathy, then looking at Cordelia with badly masked contempt, "but I can't. Cordy and I still have some...issues between us that need to be settled."

With that, she gently puts her arm around me and leads me out of the room. I have to force myself not to look back at Cordelia, who keeps repeating in my head: "I'm sorry, Willow...Please forgive me...Please!...I'm so, so sorry..."

  
  
  
  
  
  


Moments later, I find myself curled up on a couch in Willow's Office, a place she describes as her Seat of Power. It's large and elaborate, sporting a beautifully carved antique desk at one end. The decorations are all magic charms and totems of one kind or another, and the wave of colors assaults the eye.

I'm oblivious to it all. I can't get my mind off Cordelia. The screams aren't in my head anymore, but they still play in my memory. I barely register Willow over at the wetbar, mixing herself a Bloody Mary. How appropriate.

"Would you like something?" She says. I just glare at her. She looks back, then takes her drink over to her desk with a sigh. "So now you think I'm all 'Evil'."

Is she serious?!! "What else am I supposed to think? You're torturing her!"

"Yes, I am."

"That's not 'Evil'?? Where I come from it certainly has all the characteristics!"

"Would you prefer that I were dead?"

"Oh, this is sooo not the time to ask me that question!!"

"She was going to kill me, Anya. Not just rebel against my rule, but KILL me. She was going to try to get into my home and end my life. Am I supposed to just let anybody try that? Examples have to be made."

"How could she kill you? She's just a human woman!"

"Her plan was to seduce me and get close enough to use this on me." She waves her hand and a dagger flies off the wall and hovers in mid-air in front of me. "It's made of a special metal that will kill any user of Black Magick. Xander and his band gave it to her. She had agreed to be their ace in the hole."

"She obviously failed." I say, unable to take my eye off the blade until it returns to its place on the wall. "Why put her through such hell? If you must punish her just kill her, or just leave her chained up. Why the Cordies?"

She smiles and sips her drink. "She wanted to turn me on." She says. "I just helped her focus on that mission."

"And you wonder why people rebel against you!"

"Actually no. I know exactly why they rebel. They're small-minded."

"'Small-Minded'!! How is risking your life to overthrow an omnipotent dictator 'small-minded'?!"

"This world would be HELL if it weren't for me! Look at your world! The only thing standing between it and total damnation is 'Gymnast Barbie' and her sidekicks! The one person with even the slightest potential of making the world safe for humanity suppresses her power like it was a disease, just because the way she uses it might offend somebody! There is no Hellmouth here. I closed it. There is no Key to Hell. I purged it. There are no insane gods, demons, vampires, Ascensions...Hell, there are no BUNNIES here, Anya! Thanks to my power and my will to use it there is nothing in this reality that can hurt you!"

"Right. Nothing...except you."

We hold each other's stares for a moment after that. I wait for her to lie, to tell me she'd never hurt me. She takes another sip of her drink and goes for the half-truth instead. "I don't want to hurt you, Anya."

"That's comforting." I say and look away and try to let my mind wander. It doesn't go very far. "It isn't just Willow." I finally say.

"Excuse me?" Willow says.

"In my world, Willow isn't the only one with the potential to do the things you say. She has the power, but not the control. Amy has it too, but she has even less control than Willow. She's too reckless to be effective. Then there's Tara...she has the power and control..."

"..but not the will." Willow finishes. She leaves her desk and walks over to one of the display shelves. As she examines the things inside she continues. "But I'm right when I say Willow is the only one with real potential. Amy isn't as powerful as you think. She's like a gangster with a gun. He seems big and dangerous to the uninitiated but a skilled sniper with a powerful rifle could drop him from miles away before he could even draw it. She'll always be a target for a more powerful witch. And your Tara would never be able to override her conscience long enough to do real damage. That's the potential I mean. Willow is the only one with the courage to do the truly dirty work."

"And that always works out great in the end, doesn't it?" I say, earning a quick glare before she continues to look at something in the display. I can't see what it is from where I am, so I get up and risk moving closer. "You said 'my' Tara didn't have the potential." I say. "I suppose the Tara from this world does?"

"Did." Willow corrects me. Of course. The Tara from this world must be dead, too. The power Willow commands must be directly proportional to the body count she racks up. I want to say something harsh, but I notice that there's that hint of sadness in her face again, like I saw when we talked about Xander.

Then I get to where she's standing, and can see what she's looking at. It's a bust, a head-and-shoulders statue...of Tara.

"You loved her, too." I say. "But back in my world..."

"I never loved her," Willow said, "but I did respect her as a powerful enemy. Ultimately, Cordelia was nothing more than a Mata Hari, and Xander was just a man, but Tara, she was a witch to be reckoned with. She came so close...I was building Willowcoven at the time, and she came out of nowhere--I guess she managed to hide from my witch hunts. She started off with hit-and-run raids on my forces, all by herself. Then she got a 'rep', and then she started to get followers, others who had hidden out, some defectors from my own ranks. It was like Xander all over again, except with much more powerful lemmings. Soon she had an Army that nearly rivaled one of mine.

"So close...she nearly took Sunnydale from me. Our forces battled non-stop for months over the town. And even when I had won, even when she was thrown at my feet naked and chained, she railed against me, vowing that she'd be free someday, and that she'd start over, and not stop until I'd been consigned to Hell. I had this bust made of her to remind myself of the dangers of letting my guard down, even for a moment."

The statue is a fantastic likeness, full of detail and strength. "So what did you do with the real thing?" I ask. "Is she actually dead, or is there a room full of 'Life-Size Taras' somewhere in the mansion?"

Willow looks at me with surprise. "I just told you." She says. "Maybe I should have been clearer." She doesn't elaborate, but after that I don't need her too.

I turn back to the bust, then reach my hand toward it slowly. I touch my trembling index finger to the jaw of the head, then recoil after what I feel. Not the sensation of cold marble...

...the warm pulse of life.

Willow finishes her drink. "Y'know," she says, "maybe I should let your Willow in on the trick. I can't think of a more thorough way of shutting Tara up." She puts her glass down and takes my arm. As we walk to the portal disk, she says: "We have one more place to go."

I break away. "I'm not going anywhere else with you!"

Willow looks at me as if I were a recalcitrant child. "And I'm not giving you a choice!" She says, then snaps her finger.

In an instant I find myself standing on a marble floor, dizzy and nauseous from the sudden translocation. I'm a second from vomiting when I feel Willow's hand on my shoulder. The nausea fades then, and as soon as I can stand up straight Willow leads me down the corridor we landed in. The walls and floors are all gray, and the tunnel is lit by torches. There's a more powerful light at the end, shining from inside a large chamber.

"This is a crypt, isn't it?" I say.

"Yes it is." Willow says, somberly.

"Whose?" I say. Willow doesn't answer. She just keeps leading me to the chamber. I hate moments like this. Ever since I read "A Christmas Carol" I always expect someone to be leading me to my own grave. That thought fills me with angst. Is that what she wants to show me? Is my doppelganger entombed here?

The walk seems to take forever, but we finally reach the room. It's large and made of stone, and lit by massive torches built into the walls. The crypt is in the center of the room, a high, coldly sculpted affair, cornered by four small statuettes of vampire bats.

"Who is in there?" I ask, my voice cracking. I feel terribly cold, but this time Willow doesn't try to warm me.

"Read the inscription." She says.

I take slow, timid steps toward the above-ground tomb. The words inscribed on the cover come into focus as I get closer, but I try not to read them until the last possible second.

"Oh, God..." I say.

  
  


HERE LIES

BUFFY

ANNE

SUMMERS

  
  


1981-2000

  
  


SHE TRIED TO

SAVE THE WORLD

  
  


I start to tear up again, but I don't want to give Willow the satisfaction of crying in front of her any more. She doesn't make it easy. Just as the fact that this world's Buffy is dead sinks in she appears beside me.

"Your last hope for escape." Willow says. "Tara was my biggest challenge. Buffy...well, I've had greater difficulty taking a leak in public. Oh...in case you get any bright ideas, she's not coming back from this one. I cremated her body myself, and trapped the ashes in an urn with no openings. Assuming it gets broken out and reconstituted, and also assuming that some force manages to reanimate her, the casket is hermetically sealed, and rigged to fill itself with poison gas and acid if anything inside moves. In my world, when the Slayer dies, she stays dead."

I look her in the face. She's not kidding. There's no emotion there. None. There was love for Xander, lust and contempt for Cordelia, respect and honor for Tara...but nothing for Buffy, as if the Slayer were merely a bug that needed stomping at some point.

"There is no one in this realm to take you from me, Anya." She says quietly. "No one from any other world can reach you. You are here, and you are mine...forever. Please accept that."

I look back at the tomb as she moves away, so I don't notice when someone else arrives in the chamber. "You summoned me, Willow?" Amy's voice says.

"When The Mistress is ready, please escort her back to her rooms and make sure she gets to bed." Willow says. "She needs some rest."

"Yes, Sorceress." Amy says.

"Anya," Willow says, "tomorrow, if you'd like, I'll start showing you the finer things in my world." I turn to look at her when she says that. She gives me a quick smile, then disappears when she walks onto the portal disk. Only then do I break down, falling to my knees in front of Buffy's resting place and sobbing, resigning myself to an eternity with the Devil incarnate.

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	5. Pleasure and Pain

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  


Author's Notes: It's a beautiful time in Sunnydale, isn't it? The birds are singing, the trees are blooming, My favorite character's a demon again, Willow's skinning people alive (which, when you think about it, was kinda cool). I'll be honest with you guys: I'm hosed. Whenever I do a fanfic of an existing show I try to stay as close to the continuity of the show as possible, even if, as is the case here, the gist of the story requires that I diverge wildly from it at some point. Thanks to my good friends at Mutant Enemy (Grrr! Arrgh! I say), I can't even attempt to use the ending I planned for this story if I want to bring it back to the existing continuity, and I haven't quite figured out how I'm gonna finish it off. Normally, that would affect my ability to write the story (just one of my quirks), but in this case I have a chapter or two to go before that becomes a horrendous problem. I just thought I'd warn you now, though, so you're prepared.

  
  


'Witching Anya (5)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  


I let Amy lead me back to my suite in tears, then collapsed on top of the covers, screaming for her to get out. I cried myself to a fitful sleep, where I was plagued by nightmares. In one I was trapped in my demon form, powerless to grant any wishes for Cordy and Tara, who were being dangled above a fiery pit by a titanic Willow, whose enormous fingers held them by their arms. She let them drop with a thunderous "Bored Now..." that echoed through my mind. I wanted to run and catch them but I was rooted to the spot, and I could only watch as they burned to ash just as they hit the first licks of flame...

"Wake up, sweetie." Her voice calls in my sleep. I wake with a start, and spot her staring at me from where she's kneeling beside the bed. She still has that insipid smile on her face, as if I'm her favorite doll. I long to crawl across the bed and smack it off her face, but I feel spent and ragged. My throat is hoarse from the sobbing and screaming, and the beginnings of a headache make themselves felt in my temples.

I want to get up, but it's easier to just slide off the bed. I do just that, coming to rest kneeling on the side opposite Willow. We just stare at each other as I try to wake up fully, but neither of us is all that eager to break the silence. Finally I gather enough strength to say, "What do you want with me now?"

"It's Eight O'clock." Willow says. "I thought we'd get an early start on the day."

"Must we?" I say. "Is there some other torture victim you'd like to show me that only keeps banker's hours?"

Her smile turns from insipid to wicked as she scolds me. "There's no need to be snide. I told you I wanted to show you my world...our world. I have great plans. We can shop, go to the Theater, on any continent you want. We can meet movie stars, world leaders. We can bend time and space to go anywhere we choose."

"How about back to my world?" I say.

"Anya, we went over that last night, didn't we? Look, let's at least have breakfast. You must be hungry. You haven't eaten since you arrived."

I see she's not going to let up. "Fine." I say as I drag myself to my feet. "It'll take a while for me to get ready."

"No it won't." Willow says as she stands, then gestures at me. Suddenly I'm caught up by some invisible force that lifts me off the floor. It travels in, out and around my body, a magical caress that's almost arousing. It lasts for only a second, but when I come down to Earth I'm standing in high-heeled pumps and wearing a red-and-black ensemble to match the suit Willow is wearing. My skin and body feel amazingly clean, from my toes to my teeth. my face is made up and my hair is styled, and I feel as awake as if I've had three cups of espresso.

I look myself over, then look at Willow in amazement. "There," she says, "all beautiful."

I look at myself again and sigh, resigning myself to my fate. I really am her favorite doll. She dresses me before she plays with me and everything. I let the thought linger with me as I head to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" She says.

"I'll only be a few minutes." I say. "There's one thing you didn't do for me."

"I never said I couldn't..." She says, mischievously.

"That's quite all right," I say, quickly. "There are some things I'd rather take care of myself.

  
  
  
  


Five minutes later I find myself standing on a flat part of Willowcoven's roof, waiting with Willow for our "transportation", whatever that may be. Amy is standing right there with us, fussing over her computer, and I wonder idly if Willow ever lets her sleep.

"Shouldn't we be waiting by the garage for your limo?" I say. "You know...on the ground?"

"Not taking the limo." She says as she looks around the sky.

"A helicopter?" I say, half-joking.

"Nothing so loud." She says, then turns to her chief flunky. "Amy..."

"Should be any second, Sorceress!" Amy says, then starts watching the sky herself. "There! It's right where it's supposed to be!"

Willow and I look in the direction she's pointing. Something jet black and really, really big is descending from the clouds. My eyes are transfixed as I watch it come down, getting larger as it gets closer. When it emerges fully I can tell it's some kind of giant zeppelin, though not like one I've ever seen before. It's a classic cigar shape, but there are no fins on the back, and no propellers on the bottom, and the hull is smooth, as if the outer covering was poured and molded over the ribbing. There's this drum-shaped thing attached to the rear end that's emitting a bright blue gas, and the way the airship turns seems to depend on where the gas is being pointed when it jets out.

Willow grins and takes my hand as the thing comes close and begins to slide in alongside the roof to dock. As the airship turns I notice that there's a big emblem painted in blood red on the side, the Tree-and-Pentagram sigil of Willowcoven. Willow is right about one thing: I can barely hear the airship move. It's engine-whatever is making no greater noise than a soft, almost background hum.

The shadow of the airship turns the immediate vicinity around us dark as the huge gondola gets close enough for me to see inside it. There's only one woman in the cockpit, but since I can only see her torso I can't tell what level of the coven's pecking order she's in. (It occurred to me while I was waiting to make my escape attempt that the style of dress probably denoted some sort of rank structure. At least I know she can't be a warrior because she's not wearing a pantsuit.) Also, I can barely tell from the profile, but she looks like someone else I know. I just can't place her yet.

The airship comes to a full stop when the main door is directly in front of us. It's still out a good twenty feet from the edge of the roof, but that turns out not to be a problem. As soon as the craft settles, ropes shoot out from the gondola to anchor it, and a boarding ramp materializes to connect the roof to the main door.

"Come on." Willow says. "This will be fun." With that she heads for the ramp and drags me along. The gondola opens up when we're halfway across. The pilot is standing in the door when it opens. Okay, knee-length skirt. She must be a facilitator like Amy. She seems more and more familiar as we get closer, and it finally hits me just before we get to the edge of the platform. It's the smile, just as bright and sunny as Cordy's and, in it's own way, just as artificial.

"Good Morning, Sorceress." The raven-haired girl says. "Where will we be going today?"

"Haven't decided yet, April." Willow says, smiling back. "It depends on what The Mistress wants for breakfast."

Then April looks at me, still smiling. "A pleasure to meet you, Mistress." She says as we shake hands. "Welcome to Willowloft. I hope our accommodations will be to your liking."

"I'm sure they will be." I say, still stunned. April. The robot, built by Warren to be the perfect girlfriend, driving Willow's personal blimp.

"Let's get you aboard." April says. "We can leave anytime you want, Sorceress."

April leads us into the gondola and into the back, where she seats us in a spacious lounge, with coffee and tea cakes set out on the center table. When we're comfortable she asks me where I'd prefer to dine this morning.

"I don't know." I say. "I don't suppose you know where we could get some good Crepes Suzette?"

April then turns to Willow, who merely says, "Paris, April."

April nods and then stares into space. "Setting course," she says, then, "Departing."

I run to a window and look out just in time to see the mansion roof drop away from us as we take off. I don't even feel any sensation of movement. We're simply underway on Wiccan power.

"Incredible!" I say.

"Super-science powered by Dark Magic." Willow says as she comes to my side. "The airship, and April. They'll both outlive me by a thousand years...assuming I ever die, of course."

"I though you didn't 'do' robots." I say.

"Well...I dabble." She says. "Actually, I found and rebuilt April. She's the brains of the airship, like the operating system of a computer."

I look back at the robot. She's still standing there, most likely adjusting our course through the sky. "It is impressive." I say.

"So, ya like my 'ride', baby?" Willow says, and in spite of everything I have to laugh at the lame pick-up line.

"It's wonderful, but 'cool' as it is, it'll take us hours to get to Paris in it."

"Oh, ye of little faith." She says, then turns to watch April. I follow suit, wondering if she'll do something besides stare.

"Final turn." April says. I turn to look out the window. I don't even feel us turning. "Trajectory and speed set. Executing..."

There is no inertia, but the blur of motion I see outside makes me jerk involuntarily anyway, trying to maintain balance I haven't actually lost. The airship is streaking into the sky like a rocket, and we flash through the clouds until we're above them. We level out only slightly, but it's enough for me to see them speed past along our course, faster and faster until they're nothing but white blurs.

"Ten minutes, twenty seconds to Paris." April says. She's out of her trance and smiling at us again. "Will you be needing anything else, Ladies?"

All I can do is look at her in awe. "We're fine for now, thanks." Willow says.

"In that case I'll be in the cockpit." April says, and then leaves the lounge.

All I can think of to say then is, "Won't it still be night in Paris if we get there in ten minutes?"

"Not if you don't want it to be." Willow says.

The enormity of the statement forces me back to the window. I watch the clouds flash by like wraiths running from a Hell god.

"Time, Space...the World...everything here obeys your every whim." I say, softly.

Willow comes close and plays with my hair. "And yours," she whispers to me, "as long as you're with me."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


True to her word, it's a bright morning in Paris, and we have crepes and French Coffee at a little café in sight of the Eiffel Tower. The rest of the morning is spent wine hunting in Bordeaux, then shopping at Harrod's in London. We have lunch in a country inn in Scotland, where we take a tour of an old castle. The late afternoon is spent antiquing in New England, followed by a matinee show on Broadway. When we get to Manhattan, we dock the airship at the Empire State Building, using the docking post built into it but never used in my world.

By dinnertime, I must confess that the day's entertainment has overshadowed the trauma of the previous few days. I'm having fun, being out and about on a scale I've never experienced before. I continue to observe the world I'm in, however, trying to see in it's composition if there is some weakness in Willow that I can exploit. I hope it's not something obvious, so simple that I can't help but miss it, because I am missing it right now.

We've just ordered dinner at the Russian Tea Room, and as we wait and chat I look around the dining area. There are men here, as there have been every place we've visited except for Sunnydale. They live a lowly existence, nothing but busboys and kitchen menials, no better than any of the other jobs I've seen men performing in the other places. And they're all single, bordering on lonely from the look of them. All the pairs, all the couples on the town are lesbian couples, young and old, honeymooners, Married-With-Children, May-December flings, all enjoying the benefits of having their gender dominate the known world. Leave it to Willow to turn her Earth into a Gay Feminist Paradise.

Apparently that transformation was well-received by the beneficiaries. I don't know how the other subjects in Willow's Empire feel, but in this world she's truly revered. We're greeted warmly by women everywhere we go, and some of her fans absolutely gush over her. I think only respect for Willow's power keeps us from being mobbed, and that by only a slim margin. There are women staring at us now, trying not to be obvious but being so just the same. Sometimes the stares are directed at me, along with what looks like comments, whether complimentary or snide I couldn't know. The men don't look. They don't look at any of the women, especially not in the eye. They seem to be afraid of what might happen.

"Anya," Willow says, "you seem lost in thought."

I turn my attention back to her and smile. "I'm just...going over the day in my head."

"You're having a good time," she says. "Come on, admit it."

Well...it's true. "Okay, yes, I'm having a good time. I can't believe everything we've done in just one day. I mean, when I was a demon I could get around much faster, but all my stops were...you know, 'work-related'."

"Well, that won't be necessary anymore. You can go anywhere--in my Empire--that you wish faster than you can say 'work-related'. Hmm...where's our food?"

"It always takes a while." I say.

"Not here. The chef is a Wicca Practitioner. She uses small spells to make the food cook faster."

"Well...maybe she wants it to be especially good. I mean, she is cooking for the Sorceress, right?"

"I suppose." She says, then takes a sip of her drink. I'd been nursing mine since we got them. She looks around and says suddenly, "Are you bored?"

I'm not sure how to answer. What will she do if I say 'yes'? I tell the truth. "Not really."

"Hmm." She says. She seems a little restless. She raps her fingers on the table a couple of times, then sips at her drink again. "I need a little entertainment." She announces, then looks around some more. "Those two." She says, nodding at a table to my right. I turn to look. Two young girls are sitting there, a honey blonde and a brunette. Both are very pretty and curvy, "Lipstick" to the end. The blonde is in a little black dress, while the brunette is decked out in a blood red handkerchief shirt and white capris. They're looking right back at us, exchanging whispers and giggling like madwomen.

"Whenever I go out in public, I create a mild mind-control spell around me," Willow explains as we continue to watch. "It makes every autograph and souvenir seeker within range too embarrassed to pester me."

"I was actually wondering about that." I say, just as the brunette gathers the courage to wave at us. I wave back, sheepishly. Willow just nods at her.

"I'm lessening the effect it has on those two." She says, a touch of mischief in her voice. "Watch and be amused."

After that, the couple has a little argument of sorts, still mostly giggling. Finally, the blonde stands and asserts herself, grabbing the brunette's hand and pulling her up. Blondie then starts to drag the brunette over to our table, her victim protesting and covering her face all the way. It's a long trip, since our table is set apart from the rest of the dining room and sitting on another level, and the pair has the eyes of all the other diners as they approach. Finally they're standing about a foot away from the table, the brunette biting her nails and squirming in her friend's grip, and Willow motions them closer. They come the rest of the way and the blonde speaks.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Sorceress, but we just had to come see you. I'm Cathy and this is Suzie." Suzie giggles by way of introduction.

"That's all right." Willow says. "We haven't really started yet. This is Anya, your new Mistress."

Cathy glances at me long enough to say, "Pleasure..." then returns her attention to Willow. Suzie's look lasts a while longer, and it seems to be saying "Please let me borrow Willow! I'll give her right back!" She turns back to Willow when I smile and nod.

"Sorceress," Cathy says, "Suzie here is absolutely in love with you...!"

"Cathy, stop it!" Suzie pleads, scandalized. It doesn't stop Cathy

"...and she'll just die if she doesn't take this opportunity to meet you in person!"

"Really," Willow says, then turns to Suzie. "Is this true?"

"Um...uh..." Suzie says, as she blushes and fidgets, "...do...uhhh...autograph?" This sends the girls into a fit of giggles, which makes Willow smile wide.

"Okay," Willow says, "I get 'autograph'. Let me give you one. Wait...you didn't bring a pen or paper. I don't have paper, either. I suppose I could use my finger for a pen, but what should I write on?" Her face brightens suddenly. "I know!"

Willow extends the index finger of her right hand and touches the tip to an empty part of the tablecloth. I watch as she starts to scratch something into the fancy lace, but then my attention is drawn to Suzie.

"Oh!" She gasps. She braces herself on Cathy, as if she had just lost her balance. "Ahhh!" She wails as she loses it again. Her knees are knocking and she can't stop fidgeting.

I look back at Willow's hand. She's still writing, though nothing is showing up on the table. I look at her to see what's going on, but she's intent on her finger's motions.

Suzie is breathing heavy now, trying to keep her long hair from falling into her eyes and squirming as if she'd had too much coffee or beer. Her breathing turns into soft whimpering as she shuts her eyes and wiggles her hips.

Willow pauses for a moment to think of something else to write. When she comes up with something she licks the tip of her finger and continues.

Suzie wails again when the fingertip contacts the table cloth, and soon she has a death grip on Cathy. She needs it, because she can't stand upright anymore. She's dancing on her toes and her thighs are grinding together as she grinds her pelvis into her girlfriend. Cathy can do nothing but watch in awe, while I just stare like an idiot.

Suzie drops to her haunches when her whimpering turns to loud moaning, wrapping her arms around Cathy's knees. She's hissing and gritting her teeth and bouncing up and down and sobbing as Willow continues to invisibly mark her Gettysburg Address on the table. She's making so much noise now that everyone in earshot has become Suzie's audience, some looks expressing wonder, some envy, some desire. It's telling that there's no trace of disgust anywhere.

The brunette is quivering and sweating bullets when she finally lets out one last howl, and in the background there's the slight sound of rain hitting soft earth, accompanied by a scent I'm all too familiar with.

"'Love, Willow'." The Bad Witch says as she stops writing.

Suzie, breathless and spent, climbs up her girlfriend's body. Cathy helps her up and moves sweat-slick hair from Suzie's face. The brunette still can't stop fidgeting, but her attention is locked on Cathy. A quick glance at her capris reveals that at least part of them is not so white anymore. Cathy just looks at Willow.

"I wrote somethin' nice." Willow says, smiling innocently.

Before Cathy can answer, Suzie moans in her ear, "Cathy...bathroom...home...bed...that order...right now..."

Not one to disobey, Cathy mouths "Thank you!" to Willow just before she rushes her mate off to the rest room.

I watch them as they head away. "I suppose they'll cause a line." I say. I turn to look at the piece of cloth where Willow was writing. Not a single letter is visible. "I also suppose I'll never see where you wrote that autograph."

"You may not," Willow says, "and Suzie never will, but Cathy might when they get to the bathroom...if she looks hard enough. It was like writing an essay on the head of a pin."

I just shake my head as she smiles and finishes her drink. "I thought men were the only ones with one track minds."

"At least they're on the right track." She says, then she looks off to her right. "Finally!" I look over as well. The waitress is coming with our food, delicately balanced in her arms. The promise of a good meal helps to put what I just witnessed out of my mind.

Then fate rears its ugly head. Just when the waitress is about five feet away the Hostess calls for one of the busboys. The one she wants is cleaning another table in the area we're in. Naturally, he tries to rush to the woman calling him, but comes too close when he tries to dodge our waitress. He clips the tray she's holding, which overturns and sends our food verily to the waiting carpet with a clatter of utensils and china.

"You idiot!" The waitress screams at him, then continues screaming as the busboy tries profusely to apologize. His regret is sincere, I'm sure, since I'm also sure his punishment will be harsh. The Hostess is walking toward us at a brisk pace, blood in her eyes. I'm still looking at her when the screaming suddenly stops, and then the Hostess's eyes go wide and she picks up her pace. When I turn my head I see why she's hurrying.

Willow is on her feet.

Her eyes are boring into the waitress and busboy, who both look equally frightened. The waitress is trying to speak, but words won't come to her. The busboy is too scared to do anything but cower.

Willow gestures, and the busboy flies through the air. His flight ends with him hovering in front of Willow, his face mere inches from hers. The Hostess reaches the table as Willow shows the busboy her empty right hand. When he can see it clearly, she slowly closes it into a fist.

The busboy screams and his arms close against his sides as he strains against an invisible force. Willow continues to squeeze the fist, her eyes filled with rage and blazing into her victim's. "Give me one good reason," she growls through clenched teeth, "why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"Sorceress, please!" the waitress says, near tears. "He didn't know any better!"

"It was my fault, Sorceress!" The Hostess says. "It's my responsibility! Please!"

Their pleas fall on deaf ears. Everyone is watching now as Willow continues to crush the man. When I hear the muffled crack of a breaking bone I realize only I can stop her.

"Willow!" I say, then more softly, "Willow, let's go home. I'm not very hungry. I can wait till we get home. Let's go home to eat, Willow."

Her eyes dart to me, but she doesn't let go.

"Willow, please." I say, reaching out to touch her arm. "Take me up in your beautiful flying machine back to our lovely home and we'll eat there. Will you do that? Please?" I add a smile, one as sincere and demure as I can manage.

It works! Willow looks back at the servant and releases her grip immediately. He falls at her feet, holding his side and gasping for breath, and the Waitress, Hostess and I start breathing again as well.

"F-forgive me, Sorceress..." the busboy gasps, still on his knees before Willow. She looks down at him in contempt.

"You owe the Mistress your life. Act accordingly." She says.

The busboy tries to drag himself to his feet as he comes closer to me, but doesn't quite make it. I help him up as he manages to say "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you...."

"Fine," I say, "just go. You'll just have your pay docked." I look at the Hostess. "Right? You'll just dock his pay?"

"Yes! Of course, Mistress." The Hostess says, and I still see fear in her eyes, even though she's addressing me. Then it hits me: She's talking to a woman who can influence Willow.

I turn my attention back to the busboy. "Just go home. Take the rest of the night off. Be more careful tomorrow." With that I send him off, hoping he'll be healthy tomorrow as I watch him hobble away. Willow doesn't take her eyes off of him till he's gone, then she turns to the Hostess.

"Get us a cab." She says. "We're going to the Empire State Building."

"Right away." The Hostess says, then scampers off.

Willow takes my hand as she glares at the waitress, who just stands there with her eyes averted and her knees knocking. Then I'm being led away to the front door, and I can tell Willow is still enraged. We make the trip to the ESB and Willowloft in silence.

Willow doesn't speak again until we're heading into the clouds. She's standing at the window, watching Manhattan fall away. "He ruined your day." She says softly.

"Reason enough not to leave a tip." I say. "Not reason enough to crush him to death. My day is not that important."

"It is to me." Willow says. This time I decide to let it drop.

  
  
  
  


At least the service is better in Willowcoven. Mini-skirted Wiccan servers set an elaborate table for us in one of the smaller dining rooms. We manage to bleed some of the tension out of Willow by chatting as we eat (Mainly, I let her brag about her more exciting conquests), and we finish off with coffee and brandy in a little den.

At about midnight she walks me back to my suite (not much of a walk, of course, just a short stroll to the translocation disk). When we end up in the sitting room she asks, "Are you sure you had a good day?"

"It was wonderful." I say. It was, really...till she tried to squeeze someone like a tin can in front of me...not that I'll say that to her face.

"I hope you understand why I took you out, Anya." She says, softly. "I hope you realize what having you here means to me."

"I think I do," I say.

"Do you?" She whispers, then moves closer to me. Before I can stop her she lifts my chin and moves her lips close to mine. They connect lightly at first, then she settles her mouth to mine. My protest gets lost in the jumble of face-flesh, but I manage to push her away just as I feel her tongue slip forward on the attack.

"What's wrong?" She says, her face looking just like that Cordy in the black dress. I force away the first response that comes to mind (considering the fact that I enjoy doing little things like breathing and walking).

"Um..." I say, "...well...you have to understand, Will. I'm coming off of eleven hundred years of heterosexuality here. You can't just expect me to switch teams after one day. I may just...need more time."

For a moment I think it doesn't work. She frowns, and looks hurt, but then her face softens. "I get that." Willow says. "I can understand." Then she comes really close and whispers in my ear: "But you should understand something too, Ahn: We may have a very long time together, I expect we'll have forever...but I won't wait that long."

I just stand there stunned as Willow walks away and disappears on the translocation disk. I'm unable to move for another minute or so, then I race to the disk, stand on it and think of the Apothecary. Nothing happens. "Apothecary!" I say aloud. I'm still in my room. "Staging room!" I say. Nothing. "Roof!" I try. Nothing! Then I try something radical. The room actually has a door, so I try to open it. It's not just locked. I look closely and realize it's just carved into the wall, and I couldn't say if it was always like that or if she did it just as she was leaving.

I scream in rage and pound on the door! I'm furious at myself for letting down my guard, for letting Willow lull me with trips and pretty things! Even after I had to save someone from her wrath I still let myself believe I was safe with her! No more! I want to go home! I want to be with my Xander, and all my living friends! I want to go back to my store, my apartment, my life...but most of all I want Bad Willow to suffer for taking them all away from me in the first place!

I storm into the bedroom to sit on my bed and come up with a plan, still fuming. I can't keep my mind clear long enough to come up with a cogent idea. All I can think of is that I'm trapped and helpless and I'm angry.

"Did you want something, Mistress?" A voice says from the sitting room. I hear footsteps coming in.

"Go away!" I yell. "I don't want anything!"

The footsteps keep coming, and I catch a glimpse of leg and mini-skirt before I turn my head in disgust. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you, Mistress? Your wish is my command..."

"Go aw--" I start, then I freeze. I recognize the voice. I turn my head slowly as she enters the bedroom. She's dressed like every other servant, skirt just over her rear, white blouse and servile expression. She walks right over to the bed and sits next to me. Her hair is long, and a dark brown color, but I'd know her anywhere.

She takes my hand and looks me in the eye. "I heard you call," Anyanka says, "and I think we should talk..."

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	6. True Lies

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  
  
  


'Witching Anya (6)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  
  
  


Over a thousand years ago I made a decision that led to an occupation that would allow me to do the impossible on a regular basis, changing reality with the snap of a finger and the utterance of a single word, "Granted" or "Done", it didn't matter which. I'd consigned men to different levels of Hell, introduced them to unspeakable horrors, had them begging for mercy at my feet, reigning as the very embodiment of vengeance for a millennium until a wish gone wrong left me human again. Yet with all I'd done and seen, if anyone had told me at the time that one day I'd be sitting on a bed in another dimension holding my own hand, I might have responded with a rather rude gesture and recommended something very big and pointy that they should insert where the sun doesn't shine.

Life is funny like that. I now have to come to grips with the fact that I really am in another dimension, sitting on the bed, holding my own hand...or at least that of my twin. Her hair looks like it did when I started getting serious with Xander, but her face is unmistakable. Anyanka, Anya, whatever I call her...it's me.

She says she wants to talk, but I'm still trying to get over the shock. Finally I manage to say something, but I'm sure it's not something she wants to hear. "You can't be here..."

She smiles, trying to reassure me. "Don't worry. As long as I keep performing duties as one of Willow's servant witches no one will pay me any attention."

I shake my head. "No, you don't understand." I say. "You can't be here! It's not possible!"

"It's not possible for you to have a twin in a parallel universe?" She says. She looks almost as confused as I feel.

"No, no!" I say. "Willow killed you! She killed all the demons! She told me that last night!"

Anyanka's face changes then, as if she knows what's wrong. "Willow told you she killed all the demons in this universe?"

I hesitate for a moment, then say, "Well, not in so many words. I just assumed she meant..."

She doesn't let me finish. "Tell me exactly what she said."

I go over our conversation in Willow's office last night. "She said...she said she closed the Hellmouth, and that there were no gods or vampires or demons anymore..."

I stop when I see Anyanka smile. Then she looks away and chuckles. "Just like Willow. It's all in the wording." She says under her breath, then turns back to me. "Anya, you're human now, but you used to be just like me, right? You've been to Hell. Do you honestly think Willow could kill every single demon there?"

"Before I came here, I wouldn't have thought so..." I say.

"Don't get me wrong," Anyanka says. "She could get off to a fantastic start, but to kill every demon everywhere would require using all her power and putting in a few millennia of nonstop killing, neither of which she's willing to commit to."

"So...so then she's not as powerful as she seems?" I say, suddenly glimpsing a ray of hope.

Anyanka stops smiling. "It's not that she's not powerful, but even gods have limits, laws of nature and supernature that they have to follow, and for all her abilities Willow is still just a witch."

Now I look away, ashamed of myself. "She made me believe she was all-powerful."

"In Willowcoven she is," Anyanka says, making me look back at her, "and to the rest of the world she might as well be. It's like comparing the abilities of fleas with the abilities of a martial artist with Einstein's I.Q. Willow is definitely at the top of the food chain in this and all the other worlds she rules, but that isn't equal to being all powerful."

"Well, which is it?!" I say, exasperated. "Can she be beaten or not?!" I try to get up and pace, but Anyanka won't let go of my hand. She uses her other hand to reinforce her grip, and doesn't relax it till I sit back down.

"As long as I'm in physical contact with you I can keep Willow from reading our thoughts." She says.

"Willow's reading our thoughts?" I whisper. I had forgotten about Willow's telepathic abilities. "Can you actually stop her?"

"Not 'stop', but I can fool her for a while. If she tries to touch our minds she'll think I'm in the kitchen washing dishes and you're in here crying your eyes out."

That isn't much different than what I'd be doing if Anyanka hadn't shown up. "Okay, so let's make with the wish-granting while she's distracted and get me out of here!"

"It's not that simple, Anya!" She says, exasperated herself now. "I just can't grant your wish automatically!"

"But you just finished telling me...!"

"Look, Anya, you have to understand the nature of Willow's rule! It's part brute force and part psychology, but it's so effective that even though she might be subject to the limits of the universe, everybody else in this universe is subject to the limits SHE imposes. As long as I'm here I'm subject to those limits as well."

"That's crazy! A Vengeance Demon can do anything she wants, and no one can change what she's done once she's done it!"

  
  


"I can't do anything to alter a reality I can't control, and I have to live long enough to grant the wish in the first place! Willow has this universe under such a tight reign that it's essentially an extension of her own mind, and even if I could beat that level of control, if she ever found out about it my life could be measured in seconds, not centuries!"

"Well then what're you doing here?!! Did you come just to illustrate how hopeless my situation is??"

"I WILL grant you a wish, Anya, but you have to realize that there are limits to what I can give you, regardless of the power you're used to associating with Vengeance Demons."

I turn my head and scowl, enraged at what I'm hearing. I could never imagine myself as a demon being so powerless against a witch, but then I remember that there has always been something unique about Willow, in my reality and I guess in this one as well, that made her stand apart from other Wicca.

I force my anger down, take a deep breath and face Anyanka again. "Then tell me what we're up against." I say. "Tell me what we can do to stop Willow." Even with limited power, maybe Anyanka can be useful to me after all.

She takes a breath and begins her lesson in Willow 101. "The only way to truly stop Willow is to destroy the source of her power," Anyanka says, "the Apothecary."

"The Apothecary??" I say as my eyebrows go up.

"Willow has a lot of natural, raw power," She says, "but no one can do everything she does to run, maintain and expand her empire without consistent access to external resources. She created the Apothecary to gather everything she might ever need in one secure spot. It was the first room she built in Willowcoven, and I don't think anyone but her and her pet teenage witch Dawn have ever been inside it."

"I've been inside it." I say.

Anyanka looks stunned. "You have??!"

"I tried to whip up a spell with some of the stuff in there when I found it." I say. "She stopped me before I could make it work, though."

She's still stunned. "She must love you terribly." She says.

"Because I managed to get into her Apothecary?"

"Because she let down her guard enough so that you could...and she didn't blast you into oblivion when she realized you'd gotten in. Anya, that place makes Willow the powerful witch she is! She's literally wired into every book, totem and ingredient in that place, and she adds new stuff constantly. You couldn't have seen it, but from what I've heard there are no actual boundaries to its size and shape. It's simply as big as it needs to be to fulfill Willow's needs. She mixes spells as she needs them with her thoughts, instantly, without even entering the room! That's how she can cross realities at will."

My eyes go wide. No wonder she found me just as I was about to prepare the translocation spell! "Well...she must have learned her lesson since then. I tried to get back to it just before you showed up and the translocation disk wouldn't take me there."

  
  
  
  
  
  


"There's more to it than that. The disk may not have been able to take you there anymore. The Apothecary moves from moment to moment."

"Meaning it may not be in the same part of the building?"

"Meaning it may not even be in this reality anymore. Willow has almost two dozen to choose from, all within her reach and all reflections of this one. It could take decades of trial and error just to find it again."

"So...I'm guessing I couldn't just wish that she didn't have the Apothecary anymore?"

Anyanka smiles. "You could...and she'd kill us both before I could say 'Granted'. A change that drastic is definitely beyond my abilities in this world. Heck, getting rid of the Apothecary was the first thing Tara planned to do when she took Sunnydale. You see how well that plan worked."

"Like a charm." I say, remembering the Tara Statue in Willow's office. "But I get that. Tara's no where near as powerful as Willow, but you should be."

Anyanka shakes her head. "It has to do with the Hellmouth. First of all, she couldn't actually close it. No one is that powerful, but she was powerful enough to create a mystic sentry that guards the Hellmouth's opening to this world. It is powerful enough to kill any demon that tries to cross the threshold, no matter how powerful. It's like a twenty-foot tall, Amazon-built Vampire Slayer. That sentry will not let any demon pass without permission, and that permission has to come from either Willow, Dawn or Amy. It's usually Amy who makes those decisions, since she handles most of Willow's day to day responsibilities. I'm here on sort of a 'work visa'. I declared that I had some minor vengeance to take care of for someone and was granted a seven-day pass to stay here and use a portion of my power to complete the job. Of course, I didn't say anything about who needed my services."

"And every demon has to go through that just to leave Hell? Why would they put up with such outright tyranny?"

"For the same reasons mortal women in this reality do. It's highly beneficial for us if we do and highly dangerous for us if we don't. I said Willow wouldn't commit to killing every demon in Hell. That doesn't mean she couldn't. She demonstrated that very graphically by killing off half the male hybrid demons in Hell's population."

I swallow hard. "Including your D'Hoffryn?"

Anyanka bows her head for a moment, then clears her throat. "I couldn't bear to watch, but I heard his screams." She says quietly. "Then she got the pure demons to finish off the rest of the male hybrids, then gathered the female hybrids and told us that we'd be allowed to live and prosper as long as we did so by her rules. Needless to say, we didn't object, and Willow 'rewards' us by letting us function in the mortal world in a restrained fashion."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Willow had frightened the women of Hell into submission. "Not to rush you," I say, "but I hope you get to the not-so-depressing part soon because right now you are really bumming me out."

  
  
  
  


"Actually, the way she subdued Hell is part of the 'not-so-depressing part'." Anyanka says. "I mean, think about everything she has to do to maintain her empire. She has to keep all the mortals safe and happy so they don't rebel, guard the Hellmouth, keep portals open between twenty-two realities, empower her Wiccan Army..."

"'Empower' her Army?" I say.

"Of course. You don't think she just went off and found three hundred million witches lying around, do you? Most of them get residual power from her. So does her Hellmouth sentry, her estate, Dawn, Faith...anything that she needs to rule her empire but doesn't already have a mystic taint she enchants herself, and she needs to maintain that enchantment at all times. She has to create fear in others to rule them properly, because killing all her potential enemies requires magic resources that she can't really spare."

"Well, if she's that much of a paper tiger why haven't any of you demons tried to overthrow her?!!"

"Because a bunch of Humans and witches tried to first," she says, angrily, "and each time Willow was willing to risk the rest of her empire to stomp the rebels flat. She can always rebuild her world, but we can't rebuild ourselves when she's done with us!" She continues after she calms down a little. "We can't do anything that big, but we can hurt her on a small scale, enough to allow you to escape."

"Fine! I'm all for that! How do we do it?"

"We exploit her one weakness...you."

"Me?!! But how can I...wait a minute...oh no! If you think I'm going to end up sharing a glass cube with Cordy...!"

"Relax! It won't come to that...probably. You really don't understand how important you are to Willow, do you?"

"No, and I wish everyone would stop telling me about it!"

  
  


"Granted." She says, then chuckles when she sees the fear in my eyes at the thought that I've just wasted a wish. "Kidding. Look, you need to know this because it just might save you. Now like I said before, Willow needs to use her power to maintain everything in her empire, 24 hours a day, awake or asleep, at home or abroad. There is not a single second of a single day that goes by where some part of her empire doesn't need her mystic attention. Even for someone as powerful as her, that can be very taxing. She has no release, no safety valve, no way to take a vacation from her responsibilities every once in a while. With all that she has, the one thing she needs is something that can be hers, something that she can enjoy, without expending any mystical energy to keep or maintain it. You're that thing."

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Oh, fine." I say, miffed at her choice of words. She squeezes my hand a little and continues.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"Listen to me. You are the best thing that's happened to her in an age! She got you without taking over your world and keeps you here without using up all that much magic! You're beautiful, you're funny and you make her heart leap out of her chest whenever she sees you, and the few magicks she employed to capture you are more than made up for by the fact that you are what she's been needing for years...the perfect diversion. She loves you because she can relax around you. She doesn't feel threatened by you. She isn't expecting you to lead a magical assault against her or expecting you to steal her empire from her in her sleep. You can't even get out of the building without help from her so there's no chance of you leaving her, and I think that she thinks that somewhere in you there is the potential to love her back. She's counting on that spark of love, praying for it, because she's sure it will make you stay with her willingly. She figures all she needs to do is keep you here until that happens. Then Willow's life will be complete. She'll have a life-mate she can trust implicitly with her innermost thoughts and feelings, someone who can be her lover, her confidant, her friend...someone who will be loyal to her whether she controls you with her powers or not."

"But why would she think I'd be that person?" I say. "What makes her think I'd fall in love with her?"

Anyanka doesn't answer right away. Her mouth quivers, then she blushes and bows her head, and it hits me.

"Oh, God...because my DOPPELGANGER has, hasn't she?"

Anyanka looks back at me, but still doesn't say anything.

"That's it, isn't it?" I say. "That's how you know so much about her! You've been here before, probably stayed a long time, gone through all this insanity she calls romance, but you fell for it! You saw the green eyes, the big mansion, all the willing peons and her big flying phallic symbol and you went head over heels for her! Is that your big secret? So, what, I just declare my undying love and she'll be willing to let me go? She likes to dump people whose hearts she steals? Well, thank you, but I also don't want to spend eternity in the All-Girls Club you call Hell eith--!"

"She didn't want me!!!" Anyanka yells suddenly. "I wasn't you!! I never got a chance to tell her how I felt! She wanted you. I could be exactly like you in every physical way...she even took my pendant for a while, so I'd be human...but in the end I just wasn't enough like you, and when she realized that she tossed me aside. She'd just used me and cast me away like I was some sort of...some kind of..."

"'Life-Size Anya'..." I say. It's callous, but with Willow it's also likely. "There were others, weren't there."

She bows her head, as if she's ashamed. "Many others. I think I was the last before you, but I knew there had been other Anyankas with her before me."

I just nod. I'd just remembered what she'd told Xander before she took me. There were thousands of Anyankas, but only one "Anya". She knew because she'd been comparison shopping, trying to find another me. Maybe there was still a trace of feeling in her for her Xander, enough that she wouldn't take me away from mine unless she saw it as the only option. One of those others must have expressed feelings for Willow, and maybe that gave her hope that I would come to love her eventually.

  
  


But I never will, and Anyanka doesn't deserve to be thrown aside for someone that has no desire to replace her. "You could tell her now. Maybe she'd be satisfied with you, knowing you were willing..."

"No," Anyanka says, shaking her head. She wipes a single tear from her cheek and looks at me again. "She wants you, and in order for us to get you out of here we have to give her you. You don't have to jump in bed with her or meet her at the altar. In fact, she might suspect such a sudden change, but you have to show some signs of coming around, so she can relax and be content, and let her guard down around you again. If you do that I can help you the rest of the way, but we have to work fast." She takes a quick look around the room. "I think your friends are coming for you. I can sense it."

I can't help but light up at the news. "Xander's coming? Buffy and the others? They've found a way to get to me?"

"I think so, but they'll never get through if Willow is looking for trouble that centers on you. That means we have to make sure that Willow is worrying about everything else but you. When the time is right, I can keep her distracted while you get away."

"Are you sure?"

"You'll have to work at it. Try to find a way to be someplace away from her for the day. Find a project or cause or something. Do something that will get her used to not seeing you for long periods of time. At the same time, make amends for the disagreements you've had with her about being here. Try to get along slowly, and publicly. Let all of her people know you're beginning to see the light. When I have to, I can take it from there, I'm sure of it."

"How long do we have?"

"I don't know. Whatever your friends are planning they haven't quite got it set yet. When the time comes I'll give you a telepathic message. Just keep listening for my voice in your head."

"How will I know it's not just my voice?" I say. Then we both chuckle.

"This is serious, Anya." She says, but she's still smiling.

"I know, I know. So, when do we start?"

"As soon as you say the magic words."

I straighten up, clear my throat and say, "Anyanka, I wish my friends could rescue me!"

I feel the veins form in her hand as I see her face transform into it's demon image. It lasts long enough for her to say "Granted", then she reverts to her normal appearance.

"Try not to think of me." She says. "Think of how much you hate it here, or how much you wish Willow would see reason, try to figure out how to adjust to living here. Think of anything but me or this conversation! Try to jam your mind with as much nonsense as possible. Willow hates reading cluttered minds."

I nod, and with that Anyanka finally lets go of my hand and stands up. "Will you be needing anything else, Mistress?" She says.

"I could use a good book." I say. "A nice trashy romance."

She gestures with her hand and a big hardcover book appears on the covers next to me.

"That will be all." I say.

She bows her head and says "Good Night, Mistress." then leaves the bedroom. She's gone a moment later, leaving me with my thoughts and with my reading. I get immediately into bed, determined to cloud my mind with hundreds of pages of Danielle Steele. Hopefully it will be enough to keep you-know-who in the dark about you-know-who for a while. I will have to do more, of course, but at least now I'm working toward a purpose.

One way or another, my ordeal will be over soon.

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	7. I Declare War

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  


Author's Notes: Mucho stuff happening in this one! Get your scorecards ready!

  
  


'Witching Anya (7)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  


I fall asleep reading the book, then wake up the next morning feeling better than I have in the last week. My mind is wonderfully clear, which is good. I intend to fill it with only one thought: Making amends with Willow. I concentrate on this notion all the while as I shower, dress and have breakfast in my suite. Once I'm done eating, I make sure I look presentable and step over to the portal disk. I'm not sure where I need to be, so I just concentrate on who I want to see. "Willow." I say aloud.

A second later I find myself back in the Staging Room, surrounded by warrior witches in black suits. The ones nearest to me excuse themselves and step away reverently, parting the way for me as I make my way to the center of the room. When the last of the witches step aside I can see Willow, Faith and Dawn standing in front of one of those green flame portals, burning like some bizarre bonfire in the middle of the floor and reaching up to the ceiling. Willow is talking to Dawn, but stops when they all catch a glimpse of me. Dawn flashes me a big grin as Willow gestures for me to come over.

"What's going on?" I ask with a smile of my own.

"Final exam for Dawnie." Willow says with a smirk.

Dawn can barely contain her excitement. "I get to take over a world! Yay, Me!!" She says, fairly jumping up and down.

"I'm sure it's what you've always dreamed of." I say, forcing myself to think pleasant thoughts.

"Dawnie, calm." Willow says. "This is serious."

"Right! Serious." Dawn says, forcing herself to not be so giddy and putting a serious look on her face. It only lasts a second, as Dawn suddenly lets loose a flurry of eager giggling.

Willow just rolls her eyes and sighs. "Are you ready?"

This time Dawn does stop moving. She stands with her arms angled out a little and closes her eyes. Her smile is still there, and she gives the impression of a little girl waiting for a big present. "Ready!" She says.

  
  
  
  


Willow gestures, and the white blouse and black mini-skirt Dawn is wearing morphs into a black suit, making her a warrior. She squeals when the clothes change, and I realize she must have felt what I felt when Willow did that to me yesterday morning.

When it's over, Dawn opens her eyes and looks herself over. She peeks up at Willow and says "Can I have the hat?"

"When you've succeeded." Willows says.

Dawn pouts. "No fair." She whines.

"What do we say about whining?" Willow says.

Dawn huffs and rolls her eyes. "'Whining is for our victims'." She says.

"Have a good time, cutie." Willow says, giving Dawn a kiss on the forehead.

Dawn smiles, then gives the witches around us a hard look. "All right!" She screams. "Let's go bag us a world!" With that she leaps into the portal, followed by the witches in groups.

"Now remember, Faith." Willow says to her favorite general. "It's her conquest. You can advise, but she commands, okay?"

"You can count on me, Sorceress." Faith says before leaping off to join the invasion. Willow and I are left to watch the army fall into the portal. Willow sighs as she looks at the mass of green flame.

"Our little girl is growing up." She finally says to me. There's a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

"It happens so fast." I say, the only response I can think of. "Can we talk?"

She turns to me. "Sure." She says. "What's up?"

I hesitate. Even with all the departures the room is still filled with witches.

Willow looks around. "You're right. We could use some privacy." With that she puts her hand on my shoulder and snaps her fingers. The scene switches to her office, but the nausea brought on by the sudden translocation disappears almost immediately. I'm still a little light-headed, but Willow ushers me to the nearby couch and sits me down. I nod a thank you as she joins me.

I take a deep breath before I begin the speech I'd been rehearsing all morning. "I finally realize that you're right. I did promise to be your queen if you let my friends live. I understand that. Deep down, I also anticipated what that would entail, emotionally and physically, and I understand that, as well. It's just that I can't spend eternity here with nothing more to live for than the expectation that I'll be your girltoy. I need something to fulfill my life, to give me purpose."

Willow gives me a confused look. "Are you saying you want a job?" She says.

"Something like that." I say.

"But, Anya, I can give you anything you want! You don't need to work."

"I want to. In a way, I do need to. Everyone here has a role. You have your conquering, and so does Dawn, now. Faith has her warmongering, Amy has her toadying...I just want a role for me that's more than...well, 'Willow's Bitch'."

"Oh, I don't think of you that way, Anya."

"But others might."

"Not if they want to continue breathing." Willow delivers the sentence with a harsh scowl, making me realize that I probably could have phrased that better.

"What I mean is that I can't just spend all day in my room while everyone else has a job to do. I'd like to have a job of my own. Like the Magic Box. I could run the Magic Box in this realm."

"Maybe you could, but not immediately. Running this realm's Magic Box would entail running a huge multinational organization. Have you ever done that before?"

"Um, no...kind of a steep learning curve, huh?"

"Compared to a little storefront that's only busy on Halloween, I'd say so."

"Oh...well, how about the Apothecary? I could be its cataloguer."

Willow gives me a smile and a warning look with her eyes. "The Apothecary doesn't need a cataloguer. I have everything in it memorized."

"Oh." I say. I won't press the issue. "Well then, do you have money? I mean, I'm sure you do, given so vast an empire. I could manage it for you. I can be very good with money."

Suddenly the warning look on her face turns into a playful one. "Do I have money?" She says. "You want to know if I have money?"

"Actually I do." I say. I return her smile when she lets out a brief chuckle. She takes me by the hand and leads me up and over to the portal disk.

  
  
  
  
  
  


A moment later we're in another large room, this one bustling with activity. It's like the trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange, an economic landmark I've always wanted to visit! There are witches in skirts everywhere. The ones in knee-length skirts are screaming transactions at the top of their lungs, acting and reacting to the information they see displayed on the wide screens suspended above our heads. Miniskirted ones are jogging around among the others, relaying messages and running errands like getting coffee and croissants. There are brokers taking and recording the trades from an upper level catwalk. The noise is incredible, and the energy of the scene infects me immediately.

  
  


Willow leads me to a door off to the side. She waves her hand in front of it and it opens to reveal an elegant elevator. We get in and it starts automatically. We end up in a long corridor after a short trip, and we follow one of the many miniskirts in the hall to an office. There is almost as much activity in here. It's filled with desks and witches, all recording the transactions on computers that are being made on the floor. The witches who see us as we pass give us reverent nods but have no time for any conversation.

  
  


We come to a massive set of double doors. Willow waves her hand and they part, revealing a large, elegant business office, with oak and wood paneling and leather seating everywhere. There's a lone Knee-Length witch sitting at the desk shuffling through a stack of important papers, while a quartet of miniskirts stand nearby, ready to do her bidding. They all look up when we walk in, and the Knee-Length witch, a cute but frazzled brunette, stands up straight. "Good Morning, Sorceress." She says.

"Good Morning, Rose." Willow says. "Your Mistress was wondering if I had money. Would you please show her my assets as of last quarter?"

Rose nods and grabs her notepad computer and rushes over to me. She types a few commands in, then hands it to me when it's displaying what Willow wants.

I look at the bottom line...and my breathing starts to get shallow! I start to hyperventilate, and quiver, and I fight the urge to do my Dance of Capitalist Superiority! I have never seen that many zeros in one bottom line in my life, and I'm talking all eleven hundred years of it!

"So," Willow says in my ear, "do I have money?"

"Oh, yes," I say, when I can get my voice to work, "and you may have just given me an orgasm."

"That's the reward for taking 'Want, Take, Have' seriously." Willow says. "It comes from several revenue sources, profits from sales, taxes, returns on investment, spread out over all the realities under my control. I should tell you that this has been a slow quarter. We're expecting things to pick up by the end of the next."

Oh, yeah, definitely an orgasm. I'm smiling like a pervert and I feel weak in the knees as I scroll up and check out the itemized returns. I'm imagining converting the assets into gold coins and putting them in a big bin so I can swim in them like my favorite cartoon character Scrooge McDuck when Willow reels me in with what she says next:

"Still wanna run it?"

I turn to face her and nod dumbly, then look back at the computer. Suddenly I feel Willow's fingers brush across my shoulders, and I shudder as my clothes change. Now I'm dressed like Amy and the other administrators. After that, Willow leads me, Rose and her runners out of the office and through another set of double doors. This leads back out to the trading floor. This time I find myself standing on the podium where the little starting/finishing bell is rung.

Willow takes a little gavel and rings the bell several times, causing the commotion on the floor to cease. Everyone turns to the podium and waits for Willow to speak.

"Ladies," Willow says, "Anya will be taking over here. A command from her will be as a command from me. Please help her get settled in, then resume your duties."

She stands aside and gives me a little push to the front of the podium. I look down at the sea of faces looking up at me, and I feel a little nervous. Willow puts the gavel in my hand, and I tap the bell three times.

The hectic activity resumes on the floor as Rose and her runners crush in on me with questions and information. I look around for Willow, but she's suddenly disappeared, leaving me to my own devices.

  
  
  
  


It takes me the better part of three hours to get acclimated, and a full day to get in the groove, but by the next day I've hit my stride. The job is mainly a decision-making one, and I can get all the information I need almost magically (of course). Naturally, Willow's concept of an economy is little better than a pyramid scheme, with her at the top, but I'm not here to turn her into an ethical businesswoman. I need only to keep my mind occupied on something other than...well, other things. This job is perfect for that. For eight hours a day I'm totally focused on accounting and trades. At night, Willow and I spend quality time on simple dates, which I've convinced her will go a longer way to winning me over.

This goes on for five days, though I get so accustomed to the routine that it seems like I've been doing it forever. In fact, I get so used to it that I almost miss my opportunity when it comes.

It happens while I'm signing a bunch of forms. Suddenly I think to myself: Anya, find a way to make yourself scarce for a few hours. Of course I wonder why I think that. I'm not the least bit tired or bored, so I ignore it.

It doesn't hit me what's happening until the thought comes again, more forcefully: Anya...get out of their sight for a few hours!

I finish the forms and hand them to the runner standing nearby, who rushes off with them. As she opens the door I call out: "Rose!"

Rose is in the office like a shot. "Yes, Mistress?" She says.

"Take over for me." I say. "I'm leaving early. I want to see if Willow will spend the rest of the afternoon with me."

Perfect! I think, though I know it's not me thinking.

"Of course, Mistress." Rose says, and stands by the desk as I get up and head for the portal disk in the office.

A moment later I'm back in my suite, wondering how long I'll have to stay before what's supposed to happen happens, when another strong thought hits me: NOT THERE!! Anywhere but there!!

I rush out of the sitting room and into the bedroom, but a powerful urge forces me onward, till I'm in the walk-in closet. I shut the door behind me, trying to keep my thoughts neutral and passive. I manage to do this until I hear strange sounds coming from outside. I decide to risk seeing what's causing them, but when I open the door to look out I almost wish I hadn't.

At least now I understand why I couldn't hide in the sitting room. Apparently Anyanka has decided to use my rooms to distract Willow. They walk into the bedroom in each other's arms, necking and nuzzling like seniors at a lesbian prom. The sounds I hear are the sighs and whispers that accompany the kissing.

The position of the closet door lets me see the bed by leaving the door cracked open. I try to keep as little of my body visible as possible as I watch Willow and Anyanka sit on the bed. The whispering stops and the sighs degenerate into moans as they start foreplay. Blouses become unbuttoned and hands begin to roam, fondling and groping in the dim light. It's weird to watch. Anyanka looks exactly like me at this point, same clothes, same hair, and I would guess same face, though I can't be sure since it seems to be welded to Willow's at the lips.

They finally come up for air, long enough for Willow to say: "Are you sure? I've waited so long..."

Anyanka answers by rejoining the kiss and resuming the touches. No ambiguity there, and Willow doesn't press for a better answer. Soon the race to undress starts. The two of them try hard to strip themselves and each other while maintaining the kiss. This is, of course, nearly impossible, but this hasn't stopped any couple from trying it since Adam and Eve broke past each others' fig leaves.

My interest turns from curiosity to fascination as they get down to their underwear. Anyanka breaks away as they kick off their shoes and crawls up the bed with Willow in hot pursuit. When she reaches the head of the bed Anyanka turns onto her back and lays there seductively as Willow crawls on top of her. They resume the kissing with Anyanka's head supported by the pillows. Anyanka removes Willow's bra from this position, taking a breast in each hand and playing with them till Willow moans into her mouth, then Willow breaks the kiss and slides back down Anyanka's body, planting kiss after kiss on her breastbone, ribs and stomach, till her head is above Anyanka's pelvis.

She's slowly removing Anyanka's panties when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I nearly jump out of my skin at the touch, but I manage to keep from screaming as I turn to see who's in the closet with me. The shock almost makes me scream anyway.

"Willow???" I whisper.

"Shhh!" She whispers back. The person standing before me is definitely Willow, though she's dressed in a way I haven't seen in over a week, in a T-shirt, jeans and boots. It almost looks as though my prayers have finally been answered, but after everything that's happened I can't be sure.

"I'm so glad we found you on the first try." Willow says, keeping her voice low. "We don't have much time...wow. Big closet."

"How do I know you're My Willow?" I whisper back. "You could be a trick to lull me into some false sense of security."

"Believe me, Anya." She says, exasperation plain on her face. "I didn't use my magic to get here, I don't dress like a dominatrix, and I'd sooner make love to Giles than you."

I know I've just been insulted, but I'm willing to forgive. I'm just so glad to be with a friend again, even one as caustic as my Willow! I rush over and give her a hug. "You have no idea how much I missed you!" I say.

To my surprise, Willow hugs back just as hard. "I've missed you, too. Things haven't been the same without you."

I start to break the hug, but Willow doesn't let me go. When I look at her, she says: "We have to stay close so that Tara can be sure to bring both of us back."

I nod my understanding and stay in her arms. It's not a problem until a series of moans comes from the other room. I can understand the confused look Willow gives me, since it's my voice doing the moaning.

Still locked together, we make our way over to the cracked door. We have to press together even more so that we can both see what's happening. My doppelganger is writhing on the bed, clawing at the sheets and wailing to high heaven. The reason why is easy to discern, given the mass of red hair between her legs, undulating with the motions of the head it's attached to.

  
  


Willow and I watch the scene, then look at each other, then look away, blushing. Suddenly our closeness is very, VERY awkward, but she still won't let me go. Just when I'm afraid I can't stand the intimacy anymore the closet disappears in a haze of blue light and we're standing in the Staging Room.

The room is unnaturally bright, and windy, and the crash of a small lightning bolt draws my attention to what I recognize as a portal, only this one is made of bright yellow fire and very loud. It hangs in mid-air like the wrath of God, throwing lightning and pulsating like a thing alive. It's not the normal portal for this room, but there's still something about it that I recognize.

"Willow, you got her!" I hear someone say. That's been like a cue for the appearance of someone I know this week, but in this case I'm sure it's not my imagination.

"Buffy!" I say, and this time Willow let's me go as I move off. I move close to the Slayer and look her over. "You're not punctured or bleeding!"

"None of the above," Buffy says, "now come on! We have to get out of here!"

"We have to hurry, Buffy!" I hear Tara say. She's standing nearby, showing signs of strain on her face. "I can't keep it fixed much longer!"

When she says that I look back at the portal and realize where I saw it before. "Isn't that...?!"

"No time to explain!" Buffy says. "Everybody in right now!"

We're all just about to take a flying leap into the flames when an energy field closes off the portal, blocking it's lightning and wind inside invisible force. Buffy pounds at the barrier with all her might, but it doesn't give.

"Please stop doing that!" A voice calls out to her. I know who it is before we turn around, but the others are surprised to see her.

"Amy???" They say in unison.

There she is, Willow's chief facilitator in the flesh, her ever-present computer clasped to her chest. She's giving us a stern, authoritarian look, as if she's caught us smoking in the girl's room. The look turns contemptuous when she sees Buffy, then wary when she sees Tara. She seems confused for a moment when she spots Willow, but then she hardens again, softening only when her eyes rest on me.

"That portal is dangerous and unauthorized," she says, "and may not be used. It will remain behind that barrier until it can be closed properly."

"We don't have time for this!" Buffy growls as she starts to advance.

"Wait!" I say. It stops Buffy in her tracks but she continues to eye Amy like a target. Hopefully I can avoid any messy fighting and help us brazen our way through this.

"Amy," I say, "my friends just used the portal to pay me a surprise visit. That's all. They'll close it on the way back. Please give us a moment alone to say our goodbyes and you can make sure the room is safe once they've gone."

Amy just looks at me, her mouth twitching slightly, arms flexing around the computer. Finally she manages to give me a weak smile, hoping, I guess, to soften the blow when she tells me: "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mistress."

"Amy, I want to say Good-bye to my friends...alone." I say, trying to be more direct.

Amy closes her eyes and winces as if in pain, then opens them again and tries another smile. "Mistress, please. I can't do that."

My eyes go wide as I realize what's happening. "Tara, get that barrier down!" I say. "Right now! You have to get out of here!"

"Why, Anya?" Buffy says. "What's going on?"

"Willow knows." I say.

"Are you sure?" Good Willow says. "She seemed pretty well distracted when we saw her last."

"Not anymore."

"How can you be sure?" Tara asks.

I swallow. "Because I think I just conflicted with one of her orders."

Amy watches the exchange with waning interest. Suddenly she has that hard look on her face again. She raises her hand and a hundred warrior witches appear in the room behind her, standing ready to attack.

She smiles again, and this time it's one of confidence. She extends her hand to me. "Anya, please come over to me so that these witches can do their job." She says.

Buffy, Tara, Good Willow and I move closer to each other as we retreat to the force barrier. "I don't think so." I say.

"Are they so much better than me?" I hear Willow's voice say. "Have I treated you so badly that you prefer their company to mine?"

I give Good Willow a confused look, wondering what brought that on, but I shiver when I see her give me a confused look right back.

She wasn't the one that said it.

The air next to Amy shimmers and grows hazy, until seconds later Bad Willow is standing there, naked as the day she was born, glistening with sweat and sex, clutching a similarly naked Anyanka by her now auburn hair.

"I gave you my world," she says to me, her voice tinged with anger, "My universe, my everything, and you try to run away, leaving this...this imposter to seduce me. That reminds me...Amy! Anyanka violated several rules in her visit to this reality. Please see to it that better safeguards are put in place before allowing any further visits from the Hellmouth."

"Of course, Sorceress." Amy says.

"Now where was I? Oh, yes. The impostor, Anyanka."

Anyanka twists in Willow's grip, looking at me with wide, frightened eyes. "I'm sorry," she says.

  
  


"Oh, don't blame her, Anya." Willow says. "She did very well granting your wish." She holds up Anyanka's pendant with her free hand, letting the gem dangle from her fingers. "Of course, this little guy did most of the work. It jammed my telepathy, made her look, sound, smell, taste exactly like you, gave me everything about you that I wanted, except you. It even hid itself so that I couldn't see it when we were in bed together. A very handy item, this pendant. Unfortunately - for you and her - it isn't perfect."

She tosses the pendant aside, letting it land among her witches.

"You see," she says, "it can't hide true passion, true wild emotion. It can only go so far without conscious direction, which is hard to give during sex...well, good sex, anyway. I don't like to brag, but nobody has ever complained about the way I perform, least of all Anyanka.

"And there's your problem, 'cause when I brought her to the...what's that cute little phrase you have for it?...the 'Pleasure Moment', she thought that it was the best 'Pleasure Moment' I'd ever given her in all the times we made love. That thought came in loud and clear, but it was a little odd, since it was supposed to have been the first time we made love.

"Well, you see my dilemma. Either you and Willow Lite over there were lying about never having done it, or the Anya I was with was one I'd done it with several times. Well, looks like going with the percentages paid off."

I look at Anyanka, who's avoiding my gaze. Tears are rolling down her cheeks. I can find it in my heart to forgive her. After all, she was enjoying something intimate that she'd been craving for a very long time. It's understandable that her attention to detail would lapse. Besides, nothing I could do to her in retaliation could be worse than what I suspect Willow will do to her.

Suddenly Willow concentrates on her. "Oh, don't cry, dear. Don't cry. Wasn't it everything you desired? Everything you wished for? Didn't it feel good to help them rip my heart out just so you could experience a few orgasmic moments? It should, because those moments are going to cost you dearly. You see, the biggest problem with that stupid little pendant of yours is that when you're not wearing it, you're all too mortal."

With that, Bad Willow waves her hand in front of Anyanka's chest. There's a sickening, wet crunch, and Anyanka goes limp. Willow lets her drop to the floor, then concentrates on me.

"I can still forgive you, Anya." She says. "Even after this. Just come over to me now and let my witches finish off your friends."

"You said that you wouldn't kill them." I say.

"You said you wouldn't leave me." She counters. "Let's not point fingers. Besides, they invaded my world. I was perfectly content to let them be in their own world, but now all bets are off." She extends her hand. "Come over here."

"No." I say. "I'm done with you! I hate you, and your army, and your slave-witches and your evil Dawn and even your money! If I have to die here then I'll die with my friends, not as your trophy!"

Bad Willow's face contorts into a mask of rage and her eyes go deep black, and suddenly Buffy, Tara and Good Willow groan in agony. When I look at them they're doubled over in pain.

"I don't want to hurt you, Anya." Bad Willow says through clenched teeth.

"Oh, but I so very much want to hurt you!" I say, managing to advance one step before I feel a sledgehammer slam me in the gut. Soon I'm crouched on the floor with the others. Tears start to roll down my face, but I force myself to look Bad Willow defiantly in the eye. That's when I see she's starting to cry, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Don't make me do this, Anya." She says, voice dripping with sentiment. "Please just accept this punishment and then come over to me, like a good girl. I promise I'll heal you quickly, and you'll be the jewel of this universe again."

I can't take anymore! I can't stand her anymore! I just want this hell to end. "Willow, please..." I groan.

"You don't have to beg." Bad Willow says. "Just come to me and I'll take you back."

I hope to God the hate in my heart conveys through my eyes when I spit at her: "I wasn't talking to you!"

Then I feel a hand on my shoulder, and suddenly the pain is gone. I breathe a sigh of relief as a wave of comfort washes over me. I look over to whose hand it is.

It's Good Willow. She's standing and staring at Bad Willow, eyes just as black. She briefly looks down at me. "Touch the others." She says. "Start working on the force field." Then she goes back to staring down her evil clone.

"Uh-oh." Bad Willow says as I rush to do as I'm told. "Girl Scout Willow has suddenly grown a pair. What're you gonna do, Red? Drop me like a bad habit? Flip me like a cheese sandwich?"

"That depends," Good Willow says, "do I still get that free shot?" With that she gestures, and Bad Willow blasts like a rocket through the ranks of her warriors, knocking them every which way.

"Steee-rike!" Good Willow calls as Buffy and Tara recover. Bad Willow recovers faster. Soon she's floating above the whole scene like some evil angel.

"Ooh, that tickled." She says. "Care to come up here and claim the payback?"

"Bring it on, Bitch." Good Willow says as she rises into the air.

"Amy, Tara's yours!" Bad Willow says. "Everybody else, pile on Buffy! Nobody Touches Anya! The cheap, production-line copy's all mine!"

"Talk, talk, talk!" Good Willow says. "Somebody really needs to shut you up!" With that they're off, gesturing so fast and furious that they soon are nothing but blurs of motion! The air is charged and flashing all manner of colors around them, and each powerful spell ripples through the room like a tsunami! The power they're throwing at each other is raw, intense, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end! The only parts of them that I can see clearly are their faces. Each one is a mask of pure rage, as if each Willow is trying to kill a part of her that she hates.

Amy advances on Tara at a run, finally abandoning her computer as she grits her teeth. Tara's hands are up and glowing with power, ready to repulse anything the evil witch throws at her, but totally unprepared for what Amy does next. She leaps into the air, flips and morphs into a rat the size of Shaquille O'Neill! The monster lands and pounces on Tara on the bound, landing on the blonde witch and slashing at her with claws and fangs as Tara tries to force her back.

The press of a hundred witches forces Buffy back against the force barrier. Their mistake. The cornered Buffy fights like the demons she slays, ignoring the spells and magicks hurled at her to inflict physical kills on her attackers one by one. She won't force them back, but their every attempt to kill the Slayer kills another three witches, and soon they'll need reinforcements to do their master's bidding.

And me? I run out of the way as soon as the melee starts, trying not to get caught in the battle for supremacy that takes place. Of course, I'm already in the middle of it. I'm the prize, and I know it's important to me to make sure the right team wins. But how do I do that? Willow, Buffy and Tara are strong, but Bad Willow and her cronies are infinitely stronger. I can't expect my girls to win on their own...

Then it hits me. I look around and realize that the way to the portal disk is clear, and since everyone is ignoring me anyway, I run over to the pentagram, stand on it and visualize my destination.

A second later I'm in Willow's office. I start searching for the weapon I need immediately. I remember the wall it's on, but I'm not sure where it's mounted...

"There!" I say aloud as I grab a certain dagger from its place. I take a moment to kiss my fingers and touch them to the forehead of the Tara Bust. Anything for good luck. After that, I portal disk back to the Staging Room.

Now I just have to decide who to give the dagger to. There are essentially three different battles going on, and I have to pick the one where a quick victory for our side will do the most good. Finally I decide that Bad Willow was right. The best thing to do sometimes is go with the percentages.

"Buffy!!" I call out and hurl the poisoned blade in her direction. She leaps out of the horde of witch warriors and catches the dagger in mid-air, then comes down slashing! Witches fall like ten pins as the sharp metal ends their miserable lives. Buffy's aim is true every time, and when she's done she's surrounded by desiccated corpses in dark suits and a pool of blood.

No rest for the weary. "Tara!!" Buffy calls and hurls the dagger, which catches Rat Amy in the side. The beast howls in agony and stops its attack, giving Tara the opening she needs to grab the blade and hurl Amy away. The witch lands in her human form, a mere shell of the witch that above all held Bad Willow's trust.

Tara pulls herself up and sets her eyes on the final battle raging above us. "Willow!!" She calls as she tosses the dagger toward the two uberwitches. I don't know how the right Willow catches it, I don't even know how she heard Tara call her, but suddenly her right arm blurs in a specific motion and the knife is barreling toward her evil doppelganger!

Everything in the room stops when a burst of thunder and lightning announces the blade's impact. The two Willows hang in the air for several seconds, dagger hilt protruding from Bad Willow's left shoulder, then Bad Willow falls to the floor. Unlike the other witches she doesn't die instantly, but her arm is starting to decay and she's writhing in pain and moaning.

Good Willow drops to the floor right by her, still standing but spent from her efforts. We all take a breath, but our relief is short-lived. More Warrior Witches start to emerge from the portal disk and head straight for us.

"The barrier is down!" Tara says. The exit portal is back to its boisterous self.

  
  


"Let's go, right now!!" Buffy yells, and we Scooby girls head straight for it. I take one last look before I jump through, and see that the warrior witches don't care about us. They're too busy helping Willow survive.

As I jump into the flames, I hear Bad Willow screaming at the top of her lungs: "Forget about me!! Stop them!! KILL THEM!! Don't let them take Anya!! PLEASE! DON'T LET THEM TAKE ANYA!!!"

  
  
  
  


The ride back is just as painful as the ride to Willowcoven, but that's to be expected, considering what I suspect about this portal. The yellow flames inflict pure pain, making the way they burn incidental. Buffy must be feeling it the worst, but I can't imagine how.

I land very hard at the bottom of the pool in the Sunnydale High gym, followed a second later by Tara. Buffy practically crash lands on the bottom, breaking the fiberglass surface. Our Willow is the last to land, her eyes still black with power. She gestures up at the writhing portal, making the bottom of it glow a different color. None too soon! The room quakes with an impact on the shield Willow just erected, which is followed by several more in rapid succession!

"Xander, Now!!" Buffy screams at one of the high diving boards. I look up at it. Xander is sitting on it, pulling in the arm of someone laying down on it. It must be Dawn!

As soon as the arm is moved the portal starts to shrink. The impacts become more rapid, more panicked, and I can hear Bad Willow scream in rage as it diminishes to nothing.

That's when I start to relax for real, breathing heavy and sobbing with relief. I'm home! After a week of pleasure and pain, of grief and fear, I'm home!

Finally Willow's eyes return to normal and she collapses to the pool floor. Tara goes over to comfort her immediately, ignoring her own wounds. Buffy races out of the pool and up to the diving board. Dawn is sitting up now, and I can see Xander bandaging her arm. He lets Buffy take over when she reaches them, then looks down and sees me. I get up and make my way out of the pool, rushing to get to him just as he rushes to me. We meet at the bottom of the diving board and fall into each other's arms, and then I start crying for real, letting my head fall into his chest and feeling his love for me through his arms, his comforting whispers, his heart. He didn't exactly come to get me, but he was there to meet me when I came home. I'm more than happy to let that be enough.

  
  
  
  


TBC...


	8. The End?

Disclaimer: Buffy-The Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the property of Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc., Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises and Twentieth Century-Fox Television. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only and no money has changed hands. The story and all original characters are the sole property of the author and may not be used or archived without permission.

  
  
  
  


'Witching Anya (8)

by Darrin Colbourne

  
  
  
  


We regroup at Buffy's house. Xander and I are the only ones who came out of the fight relatively unscathed, so it's up to us to take care of the others. We get Dawn to bed immediately and redress her cut properly, but not before she passes out from the loss of blood. Willow passes out soon after, exhausted from expending so much magical energy in her fight with her evil counterpart. Xander treats Buffy's wounds while she keeps watch over her sister, leaving me to treat Tara's cuts and scrapes as she watches over Willow. Tara never takes her eyes off the redhead, and there's the most forlorn look on her face. I think I know what the problem is.

"She had no choice." I say quietly as I rub iodine on a slash. "If she hadn't used magic against Bad Willow we never would have gotten out alive."

She barely reacts to the sting, lost as she is in Willow's face. "I should have been stronger, so she wouldn't have to."

"You were strong enough!" I say. I knew everything. Xander told me how they'd gotten me out on the way here. "You found a way to get to me when Bad Willow said it was impossible."

"It was actually Dawn's idea." Tara says. "She thought that if she were the Key again she might be able to open the portal to where you were. We tried everything else! Nothing worked! We couldn't even find you. Then I found the spell to reactivate the Key, and Dawn found you...at least, with the right support the portal opened up in the dimension you were in."

"Then you came for me." I say. "You sent Willow for me, and brought us both back, and you would have gotten us out if Amy hadn't showed up. That's plenty strong in my book. In fact, I think I've misjudged you, Tara. You may be stronger than you realize."

"Not strong enough. Not enough to beat Bad Willow. She had me, frozen, in pain, dying, and Willow had to save me, all of us...had to break her vow."

"Her vow's not broken," I say, "it's just a little...bent. I'm sure she'll go right back to the 'no magic' when she's feeling better."

This gets me a tired chuckle. "I wish it were that simple." Tara says. "There's so much you don't see. So much that even Willow doesn't see..."

  
  


Her voice trails off, and I finish up as she continues her vigil. "All done." I say after I apply the last bandage, then I give Tara a hug. "Thank you for everything." I say with a smile. "I owe you and Dawn my life...and maybe something expensive, like fine jewelry."

Tara smiles back. "I was glad to help." She says, "and Dawn said she owed it to you. She wanted to do everything she could. We all did."

"Well I certainly owe you all my gratitude, and I'll tell everybody so when everyone's conscious."

We take a glance at Willow and giggle a little, then Tara's smile fades as her gaze lingers on the redhead. Her face has that forlorn look again. I decide she's just worried about her lover. "I'll let you two get some rest," I say, as I stand to go.

I'm just about out of the door when I hear Tara say: "She did it for you."

I come back in. "She did it for me?" I say.

Tara's still looking at Willow as she continues. "Do you remember what Bad Willow said about Willow's feelings for you? Did you believe her?"

"Well...at first I did, but then I found out she'd lied to me about a few things, so I figured that was just one of things she lied about. I guess she thought it justified her somehow."

Tara's voice almost breaks as she says "Sh-she wasn't lying."

I can't speak, can't respond. All I can do is stare. I can hear in her voice that she's telling the truth, and it hurts her.

"Willow and I are connected, you know?" She says. "We see things in each other. I...I've seen in Willow what Bad Willow said she saw in her. Images of you, impressions of you. Just the way Bad Willow described. I've never said anything about it because Willow herself is barely conscious of it. She tries to shut them out, forces herself to remember me when they flash through her mind, but they never stop...and I'm not so sure she wants them to."

Then she looks at me, looking defeated as she continues. "It's been really bad ever since the night she conjured that engagement party for you. When you hugged her to thank her, the impression I got when you made contact...your touch sparked so many emotions in her, I'm surprised she hid them so well, but what I couldn't believe was the pride. She conjured a party out of thin air, on a whim. It was probably the most self-gratifying moment she'd had in a long time, and all the time I was warning her about using so much magic for so many personal things her only thought was about how she made you happy, and how you weren't judging her for the way she was doing it.

"Willow has always had a problem with the way people see her. She's always worrying about being accepted. I think that's part of the problem. I mean, she'll never admit it, but she sees me as some sort of nag, trying to make her give up something she loves to do and holding our love hostage till she does. I'm not really, but she'll never be totally convinced of that, no matter how much I say otherwise. I think she worries that Buffy and Xander only see her as a weapon, and that her witchcraft should only be used to fight off Big Bads. I'm sure that's not true either, but Willow has bound her sense of self up so tightly to the Wiccan part of her being that she'll never be satisfied with anything less than unconditional acceptance of the Wiccan part of her personality.

  
  


"And that's where you get the prize, Anya, because from the moment you met her you've treated her as she's always wanted to be treated...at least as far as her Wiccan self is concerned. To you she's a powerful witch, period, and you treat her as such, with no strings attached. She loves that. It's the one thing she really likes about you, no matter how much you annoy each other, or how much you fight, she's willing to maintain a friendship with you for that reason alone."

"But...she IS a powerful witch," I say, "Isn't she?"

"Of course she is, but you never try to put boundaries on how she uses her power. You thought nothing of her creating a party for you out of thin air, and you would have thought nothing about it if she'd used it to fight off Bad Willow before you were taken. Heck, once you even tried to get her to help you get your necklace back."

I blush a little. "I admit, that wasn't one of my finer moments."

Tara smiles. "She agrees, but what she doesn't talk about is how proud she felt when you asked her to help complete the spell, and when you did complete the spell to send Vampire Willow back. She loves it every time she makes a spell work, the rush of power she feels every time the universe bends to her will, no matter the consequences. That's what I'm always warning her about. That's what Buffy and Xander worry about. But you don't seem to."

"That's not true! I do worry, but I figure as long as she's not trying to turn back time or raise the dead..."

"But she doesn't have to be to abuse magic. Even simple things like creating a party from thin air can be abusive. Don't you see, Anya? Even encouraging such a little thing can lead her down the wrong path."

"I didn't think I was doing anything wrong."

"Neither does she."

With that, she looks at Willow again, leaving me to ponder what she's just said. I contemplate leaving again but she doesn't give me a chance.

"You know what really scares me?" Tara says.

"What?"

"If she does take the wrong path, if she does become Bad Willow, she'll want you by her side."

"How can you be so sure? Just because of the real Bad Willow? Don't be silly. This Willow loves you."

"She won't if she can't have me unconditionally. She won't if I try to make her hide or downplay her magic. She can't be Bad Willow without displaying her power for all to see, and I'd be an obstacle to that."

"Well, so would I! I'd never want her to go overboard with her magic!"

"Unless you needed her to defend you. Like tonight. Or wanted something fun, like the party. I'm sorry, Anya, but you'd never be as diligent as me or the others when it comes to monitoring Willow, and that makes you the perfect mate for her if she goes rogue.

  
  


"You want to know how I know? She didn't fight Bad Willow for me tonight. I was just as desperate as you were for some help, but I could sense that Willow was afraid I'd look down on her for saving our lives, for using the amount of dark magic necessary. She didn't act until she had an excuse, until someone had appealed to her, pleaded with her, PRAYED to her in a sense. She didn't act until you said 'Willow, please'. She did it for you, because, as usual, you accepted her for what she was. For that kind of support she'd move heaven and earth, literally. For that kind of support...she'd give undying love.

"That's why she'd want you, no matter how much she denies it. That's why Bad Willow wouldn't hesitate to pick you over...over a 'sniveling, whining, stuttering little mouse' like me."

The bitterness in her voice as she repeats Bad Willow's assessment of her frightens me, just like the rest of the conversation. She's obviously thought it through, and her conclusions based on her insight into Willow are naturally devastating to her. I can do nothing else but try to console her.

"But I wouldn't want her! I have Xander! I love Xander! I'd never leave him for her!"

"Suppose Xander were no longer a factor? Suppose she made him disappear? Or suppose he left you?"

Now I'm defensive. "Xander would never leave me."

She gives me a bitter smile. "And I thought Willow would never show affection for another woman."

That sentence sends a chill up my spine. Could it be true? Am I destined always to be a target of a rogue, dangerous Willow?

"What other woman?" A tired voice says from the bed. Willow is half-awake and rolling her head toward Tara.

"Shhh." Tara tells her. "You need your rest."

"Yes, Mother." Willow jokes. "Nag, nag, nag. Anya? Make her stop, will you?"

I freeze as Tara glares at me. Willow's quip speaks volumes, confirming everything Tara has said. I dread having to answer, but fortunately I'm saved from having to do so as Willow falls right back to sleep.

Tara breaks into quiet sobs as she looks away from both of us. "It was just a joke." I offer, but she continues to cry.

"It was just a joke." I say again as I finally leave the room.

  
  
  
  


Final Author's Note: After much soul-searching and brain-wracking, I finally decided to go with a variation of the ending I originally intended, deciding to go AU all the way. I hope it met everyone's expectations. Thanks a lot for all the great reviews and feedback!


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